The Long Road Home
by BillAndBrick
Summary: After Sarah and Chuck spend an evening on the beach reliving their life together, they must decide how to proceed and whether this new beginning is a blessing in disguise.
1. The Deal

_BillAtWork's A/N:_

_To be honest, this is a story that I never thought would happen. I figured that my fanfic days would be over when the series ended. But there are a couple of reasons why I decided to continue. First, I'm not satisfied with the way the series ended. And although I'm convinced that it was a happy ending, I'm disappointed that it wasn't clearer. Another reason I'm excited is that there is no longer any canon to be compared with. We can take these characters anyplace we want now. That's very appealing to me. But mostly, it gives me a chance to work with BrickRoad again. The most fun I've ever had writing is when we did The Long Brick Road together. I'm very proud of that story and hope this lives up to those standards. Brickroad was one of my first Chuck friends, dating back to the first season. So it seems fitting to end our careers where they started. I hope that the love for the show and, more than that, respect for the characters that we share comes through. _

_Brickroad16's A/N:_

_This is all Bill's fault. I thought my days as a fanfic writer were winding down. I still love _Chuck_ as much as I ever did, but I simply don't have as much time as I used to, especially since I'm expected to act like an adult now. But this has been a very fun story to write so far, and I love coauthoring with BillatWork, because I think it brings out the best of both of our styles. I have such a respect and love for this show and its community, and I hope that comes across in this story. Bill and I actually disagree over the ending. I happen to love it to bits and pieces. The good thing is we've used our differing viewpoints to strengthen this story, or at least I hope we have! I know I've had a blast playing in the _Chuck_ sandbox for the past five years. Given the nature of its fans, I'm sure this community will still be going strong a long way down the road. So, thanks to Bill for twisting my arm into helping write this, haha, and thanks to all of you who read this. We've had a great run, haven't we? _

_We don't own Chuck. Actually, we don't own much of anything. _

_If you enjoyed this or any of the stories on this site, please take a second and send the author a review. It only takes a second – and it really, really makes a difference. That's probably more important than ever now that the series has ended. If you want to keep the Chuck fandom alive and continue to read about these characters, you really need to think about rewarding the people whose hard work make that possible._

_This story is set in the middle of the kiss on the beach where the series ended. That's probably all you need to know._

**The Deal**

x-x-x-x-x

It was far from a Chamber of Commerce weather day in Southern California. It was grey and dreary. A blustery wind had the surf rolling in much higher than normal. But that didn't matter much to Chuck Bartowski. Because for the first time in a month he was kissing his wife. And the best part was that it was at her invitation.

It was nothing like old times, when even a quick peck could turn into a heated expression of passion and desire. After the past few weeks though, weeks full of uncertainty and pain and not a small amount of faith, Chuck knew he couldn't go there. However, it _was_ a nice kiss. And it _did_ last a long time. That was hopeful.

As soon as the kiss broke, Chuck looked at her expectantly. "So . . ." he breathed, "did it work? Do you remember anything?"

Sarah kept her eyes closed for a moment longer than necessary, relishing the ghost of his lips against hers. She couldn't say how, but it was as if she remembered those lips. But how could she, when she couldn't remember the man they belonged to? Opening her eyes, she looked up at the man in front of her, a man whom her head identified as her husband but whom her heart barely recognized. Inexplicably, even to herself, she was forced to admit one simple fact:

She liked him.

Even that wasn't totally honest. The truth was she liked him _a lot_. That realization and recognition may sound mighty tame to regular old civilians, but, for Agent Walker, that was one hell of an admission. Agents were trained to not become attached, and Sarah Walker was the best of the best. Liking someone – genuinely enjoying their company and the way their nose crinkled when they smiled – was so new for her that it confused her, scared her a little even.

But she also saw the look of hope on his face. There was another new emotion for her, but for a different reason. It was the tiny thing with feathers, the dim, flickering light that she kept buried deep down in her heart for the cold days, for fear that, if she let it out, the world would extinguish it.

She saw it in his eyes now, warm brown eyes full of optimism and affection, like he was hoping against hope that their one kiss would be that fairytale kiss, magically fixing her, restoring her to the wife he knew, and so clearly adored.

She didn't want to crush that hope. She couldn't.

"I think I remember that you're a very good kisser," she said, injecting levity into her voice. The look of despair that came over his face simply broke her heart, a fact which told Sarah everything she needed to know. She desperately wanted to comfort him. "Come on, Chuck," she said, keeping the light tone. "This is Morgan we're talking about, right? I can't claim to know him very well, but how often is he right about things like this?"

That got a little smile, not much, but a little. "Hardy ever," he admitted. "So, you didn't remember anything? Nothing at all?"

"Well," Sarah said, her smile growing a little, "not anything that makes any sense anyway. I remember something about us kissing before. We were on a train . . . getting room service . . . and the porter had a French accent. But we were southern. Crazy, huh?"

"Oh, my God," Chuck said excitedly. "That happened. The first week we were together. We were in France running from the CIA. The porter was getting frustrated that we ordered so much room service. We spent the whole first two days in . . . " Chuck trailed off. His wife had decided just a few weeks before that she wasn't going to eliminate him. It wasn't the right time to put pressure, however inadvertent, on her about sex.

So used to men acting suave and debonair around her, Sarah was intrigued, endeared even, by his nervousness. It was cute. She let him off the hook by asking, "Why were we southern? Was this a mission?"

"Not at first," Chuck answered, letting out a sigh and shifting into a more comfortable position on the sand. "But you know us. Missions seem to follow us wherever we go." Then he looked sheepish. "Sorry, that was a stupid thing to say. Of course you wouldn't know that. Anyway there were some terrorists on the train and we went undercover as a couple from Atlanta on our honeymoon to catch them."

So now it was official. Chuck Bartowski was unbelievably cute when he was nervous and rambling. He certainly wasn't like any partner she had ever worked with before. "Did we catch them?" Sarah asked, feeling a smile coming to her lips.

Chuck got a little serious. "Eventually," he said. "But there were issues, like most of our missions. I screwed up our cover name. We ended up being Mr. and Mrs . . ."

"Charles Charles," Sarah finished with a laugh. "Oh, my God, I remember that. You were so . . ." Now it was her turn to trail off awkwardly. No matter that they'd just shared an adorably sweet kiss, first or not, she wasn't ready to tell him how cute he had been, especially in a snatch of memory that she was still determining was solid.

Chuck, though, misinterpreted her hesitation. Fleetingly, she wondered how often he did that, how often he chalked up her vacillations to himself instead of to her upbringing, her defenses that she's only now finding the cracks in.

"Yeah, it wasn't my proudest moment as a spy," he admitted dejectedly. "Fortunately, they were too busy trying to look down your shirt to notice. That day was the first time that you told me that I'm a good kisser. That must be what triggered your memory."

Sarah bit the corner of her lip, trying to control the hammering of her heart. If rambling Chuck was cute, jealous Chuck was even cuter. "Maybe," she agreed with something approaching a smirk, "or maybe it was the fact that you _are_ a good kisser that triggered it."

Unfortunately, Chuck seemed to be just as ready to miss given hints as he was to misinterpret involuntary clues. She wouldn't have minded at all if he were to kiss her again, especially if it would help take their minds off this . . . this big obstacle that had him so apprehensive. She may not remember much of their relationship, but she could easily extrapolate that she was the aggressor in it, the one always holding his hand, burrowing into him at night, always pushing for an extra kiss before they parted.

"Sarah, your memories are in there," he said. "We just need to trigger them. Why don't you move back home? We can work on them together." Balking again, he quickly backpedaled to add, "I didn't mean that like it sounded. I don't expect anything from you. You can sleep in the guest room. We'll just be friends until you're ready to be more. I promise not to put any pressure on you."

Sarah looked at him carefully, wondering what had him so nervous. It sounded like a good idea. In fact, he seemed like the kind of guy to usually come up with the good ideas. For one thing, all her clothes were there. It _was_ where she lived.

"If I could ask for one thing," Chuck said, so softly that she had to strain to hear him over the sound of the waves. "Look, I know you. If it comes to that, please promise me that you won't leave without saying goodbye. That . . . that would be hard."

That turned her smile decidedly sad. Yes, he did clearly know her. When things got hard emotionally, her instinct was to run away. That's the way it'd always been with her, probably something she picked up from her dad. Mainly, though, she was sad because here was this nice guy, genuinely kind, mourning the loss of his wife and yet having to look at her every single day, and she didn't think she'd ever come across anything sadder. Amazingly still, all that same guy could think about was how to be there for the wife he thought he'd lost.

It was overwhelming, to say the least, especially since she had no idea what to do for him in return.

So she settled for something basic – the promise he requested.

"I promise," she said. "I would never do that to you, Chuck. I do have to go to Washington for a couple of days, for a CIA debriefing. It's standard; don't worry. But when I come back, then we can start working on things." She could see the wheels turning in his head, and it wasn't hard to guess what he was thinking. "You can come with me if you need to," she said with a little softer smile, "but I think it would be better if I did this myself. I will come back, Chuck."

Chuck nodded. With as big a smile as he could manage, he suggested, "Maybe we can go out on a date when you get back."

"That'd be fun," she told him, surprising herself when she realized she meant it. A date with Chuck Bartowski _did_ sound like fun, the sort of thing a weary CIA agent could look forward to while going through the motions of a post-injury debrief. Smiling at the prospect, she added, "It'd be like our first date."

"Yeah," Chuck said in faux exasperation, "more like our third first date."

"We must be getting good at it."

x-x-x-x-x

One thing that Chuck and Sarah had frequently done whenever they went to the beach was to visit a little take out restaurant just off the pier. The crab cakes were Sarah's favorite. Chuck often accused her of wanting to go the beach so much just for an excuse to stop and get some. Of course, that was one of the things that she didn't remember at all, and since the place wasn't all that much to look at, she was skeptical, to put it mildly. However, Chuck's eagerness was plain, and it didn't take too much pleading, though she held out more to watch him implore adorably than because she actually didn't want to, before she agreed to try one. One taste and he was proven right. She instantly fell in love . . . with the meal.

Things changed once they arrived home. The tentative hopefulness from the beach and the playfulness from the crab cake shop disappeared, leaving only awkwardness in their place. Sarah ran her hands down the thighs of her jeans. The last time she had been here was when she believed that she was in the middle of playing a long-term mark. The biggest thing on her mind that night, aside from whether he was on to her, was relief that the 'assignment' hadn't included any actual sex. It would have made an already tense situation even worse. Ironically enough, sex was foremost on her mind tonight as well, though for a completely different reason.

Chuck, for his part, was being incredibly sweet, intent on giving her some space. She couldn't quite be sure if he really was engrossed in the computer or simply pretending, but either way, he was doing it to give her time to look around and get familiar with the place. With her house. _Their_ house.

Their _home_. Because it was decidedly that. She remembered picking up a photo a few nights ago, a kitchen knife in one hand, the only thing in her mind the mission. That photo had set off the first spark of doubt. This wasn't a house that belonged to an agent seducing a mark. It was a home, a space for two people to turn two separate lives into one future. All the little touches – the set of gourmet knives in the kitchen, the complementary towels in the bathroom, the photo albums in the living room, – pointed to two people who couldn't live without each other, two people who belonged together.

One of the last things Sarah noticed was the wedding ring sitting on her dresser. Up until now, it had been merely a prop. Looking at it now, it meant something else entirely. She was _someone's wife_. Once upon a time, of her own free will, she had given her heart to a lovely, caring man, and he had given her his in return. They had stood before an altar, before all their friends and family, and had promised to take care of each other through the toughest of times. For better or for worse. If this wasn't worse, Sarah didn't know what was. Yet here he was, faithfully keeping his promise.

A long time ago in real time, but not so far off in her mind, such a strong and deep commitment would have scared her to death. Being a cover wife was a piece of cake. Never in a million years would she have considered being a real one. Except she'd just found out that 'a million years,' for her, translated to approximately four. Or, more accurately, 564 days.

The fact that this very real wedding ring didn't make her feel uncomfortable at all was telling. The fact that she was very tempted to put it on was even more so. That was something that might help Chuck a lot, she considered. Never very verbal, she was struggling with how to let him know that he didn't need to be quite so panicked, that she wanted this to work as much as he did. More by instinct than anything though, she decided that he needed to go slowly, that pretending everything was normal wasn't really what he needed right now. Reluctantly, she took the ring off and replaced it on the dresser.

She stepped into their closet and looked cursorily through her various outfits. Most of them she had never seen before, but there were a couple of recognizable old favorites. One thing she did notice, with a smile, was that her wardrobe was decidedly more conservative.

Then she saw it.

x-x-x-x-x

Chuck was finishing up some paperwork. The sale of the Buy More had just finalized, the transaction having cleared while they were on the beach, making him an independently wealthy man once again. Rather, an independently wealthy couple. After all, Sarah owned all of this just as much as he did. The problem was being wealthy no longer meant as much to him. The only material thing that he really wanted, their red-door dream house, would now have to wait for . . . He was scared to think of how long. Maybe forever. All the money in the world wasn't going to get Sarah back a minute faster.

As wrapped up in his internal thoughts as he was, Chuck didn't notice that Sarah was next to him.

She showed the negligee she was holding to him. "The mission on the train. The Charles Charles thing? Did I wear this?"

Chuck smiled and nodded. "It didn't really start off as a mission," he said. Swiveling in his chair, arms crossed, he asked, "How much do you remember?"

"Almost nothing," Sarah admitted sadly, sitting on the edge of the desk. "Mostly just vague feelings. I remember being impressed with how good of a kisser you were." What she didn't tell him was how important that was to her, how kissing for real was her favorite thing. It always had been, even better than sex. It was an expression of intimacy that spies hardly ever got.

"Well, that's a good thing," Chuck said as his smile broadened. "Kissing is your favorite thing. It's when you're happiest. So I'm glad that you think I'm good at it . . . or did anyway. We spent a lot of time kissing. Just so we understand each other. The beach today was far from my best effort."

Sarah was glad she was already sitting, because the absolute clarity with which he knew her hit her between the eyes, staggering her. That was something she never would have admitted out loud, to anyone. For Chuck to state it so plainly and matter-of-factly meant he knew her far better than anyone else had. It meant she'd opened up to him. Bryce would have never said anything remotely like that. To him kissing was just his signal that he was ready for sex.

She looked at the negligee. "I don't remember buying this," she said, more to change the subject than anything.

"You bought it in Paris," Chuck explained. "Surprised me with it on the train. And it definitely worked. It was the sexiest . . ." Chuck stopped and cleared his throat as he realized the intimate direction in which this conversation was headed.

Sarah couldn't help smiling. He was turning her mood completely around, and forcing her to admit, however silently, that Chuck Bartowski was an amazing man. Cute when he was embarrassed, trying so hard to be sensitive. She was half-tempted to go into the bedroom, toss on the negligee, and surprise him again. It was a little early for that though. Besides, the scene he was describing was clearly one of the highlights of their relationship, maybe of his life. If she did that tonight, all she'd be doing was cheapening the memory by offering a crude imitation.

But she couldn't go wrong with a little teasing. "I'm sorry I don't remember more of that day," she told him with the beginnings of a grin. "It sounds like we may have come close to rocking the train off its tracks."

"It was a very good day," Chuck admitted with something of his own grin. "But the honest truth is that it got so much better later. We learned to slow down and just enjoy each other." His voice softened. "That's what I miss." Shaking his head, he frowned. "Ah, I'm sorry. I promised not to put any pressure on you. And I won't."

She reached out to put a hand on his forearm. "Don't be sorry. That sounds perfect. It really seems like we had something special." As soon as the words were out of her mouth she knew how stupid it was. She quickly averted her eyes from his devastated look. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't mean to put that in past tense. You really loved me didn't you?"

A soft, warm smile came to Chuck's face. "Love," he said. "Present tense. But in case you were wondering, because you couldn't believe how a hardened CIA agent would end up with a computer nerd, you loved me back."

Sarah swallowed thickly. He _knew_ her. He was proving that with every single conversation, nearly with every passing minute.

There was still something she needed to know though, something that could make or break this relationship with him, something she could never figure out on her own. "Tell me something," she said quietly. "Straight up, no bullshit, no telling me what you think I want to hear."

"Anything."

"Was I happy?"

Chuck smiled the biggest grin she'd ever seen, except for maybe the one in their wedding photo hanging on the wall in the living room. "It was amazing," he admitted, a touch of wonder in his voice, opening his arms as he gesticulated animatedly, the way he did when he was explaining something he was passionate about, she'd noticed. "You totally changed. You were more than happy. You . . . were at peace. You were far more than just a hard-ass CIA agent. You started caring about people. And it was far more than just you and me. Ellie became your girlfriend. You two would be together, giggling, and I never understood a word of what you were talking about . . . but I loved watching it. Casey became your best friend. He'd never admit it, but he changed just as much as you did." He finally took a breath. "You're the one who wanted to stop spying, start a family. So yes, I'd say you were happy."

Sarah was at a loss for what to say. There was not much you could say to that. The follow-up she really wanted to ask was if _he_ was happy. But she knew that he wouldn't be comfortable with that question. There was no way he would be honest. So she settled for – "Tell me the truth, Chuck. If there was one thing you could change about me, what would it be?"

Chuck, arms crossed and leaning back in his chair again, pondered the question for a while. "Well," he finally said, "the obvious thing is that I would hope you remember the last five years. But that's not what you meant, is it?" Then he paused for a while longer. His voice was softer when he continued, "You kept everything bottled up, never admitting your feelings, like you were afraid to allow yourself to become vulnerable to anyone, even to me. It made things so much harder than they needed to be." He gave her an encouraging smile. "Not that I'm blaming you. It's probably good you can't remember my fair share of the mistakes we made. But that's where you really grew over the years since I met you, and especially since we've been married. So I think that's what I'd change. Because you went from being scared and miserable, to fulfilled and happy, and it breaks my heart to think that you're back to how you were."

She gulped. Talk about a bull's-eye. He had just summed her up in a single breath. That was something she never thought could happen. It was unnerving. At the same time, though, it was kind of nice. The prospect of love had always been so forbidden to her that she never really allowed herself time to think about it, but now that it was here, she could imagine how nice it would be to come home to the same man every night, curl up on the couch together to watch TV, go to sleep without worrying if he'll be there in the morning.

"I know that you miss your wife," she finally said. That was an understatement. She couldn't even fathom how frustrating it was for him to have all these special memories that she didn't – couldn't – share. "I need you to be patient, because when I get back, I promise I'm going to work just as hard to get her back too. Just . . . don't give up on me, Chuck."

Chuck reached out and took her hand, gently. He said, "You have a deal. I know you don't know this, but since we've been together, I've never given up on you, and I never will." Then he stood up and yawned. "We should get some sleep. I'll drive you to the airport tomorrow morning."

"My flight's early," she protested.

"I know," was his reply.

A smile lingered on her lips as she watched him disappearing down the hall. Later that night, though, in the guest room, she couldn't stop tossing and turning. She was used to sleeping in new conditions, and this was by no means uncomfortable. It just didn't feel right. She wouldn't get much, if any, sleep tonight. Though she was accustomed to an erratic schedule as well, she found she was having a hard time keeping herself from breaking down. And she couldn't start crying. If she started, she wouldn't stop, not for a very long time. Calling upon her training, she took deep breaths and pushed it down. The truth, though, was she was haunted by Chuck's words, every single thing he said.

He had nailed her completely, in a way that no one in her life had ever come close to. He had expressed her thoughts in a way that she herself would have struggled to, even to herself. If she was going to give him his wish, maybe it was time to admit that she was already over the edge, that she wanted the old Sarah back even more than he did.

Had she really been that happy? She wouldn't have thought it possible, even if she hadn't grown up into this life of hardened emotions and tough choices. Being so completely content didn't sound like something she was capable of, and it definitely didn't sound like something she deserved.

Chuck seemed to think she deserved it though. She wasn't so sure, but there was one thing she did know.

She was going to find out.

x-x-x-x-x


	2. The Discovery

_We don't own Chuck. Actually, we don't own much of anything. _

_If you enjoyed this or any of the stories on this site, please take a second and send the author a review. It only takes a second – and it really, really makes a difference. That's probably more important than ever now that the series has ended. If you want to keep the Chuck fandom alive and continue to read about these characters, you really need to think about rewarding the people whose hard work make that possible._

**The Discovery**

x-x-x-x-x

Sarah sat in the bar and slowly sipped her wine. As this was a favorite of the clandestine crowd, one of those out-of-the-way, off-the-grid places in the Capital district that looked like a hole in the wall but opened into an elegant hideaway as soon as you stepped through the doors, she was no stranger to this place. Though it was popular, it'd never been her scene, what with the abundance of young, good-looking, and lonely agents in one place. That sort of palpable frustration led to meaningless flings, and she couldn't count how many these red-boothed tables had spawned. Even tonight, without turning her head, she could pick out a handful of couples already on the path to wild nights and morning regrets. The interesting thing about this bar, however, was, because of the competitive and often headstrong nature of agents, it wasn't always men doing the pursuing. In fact, the male agents preferred this bar for the precise reason that they became the objects in demand. Sarah nearly snorted into her drink at the thought. _Objects, indeed_.

She sat down her wine glass with a sigh. She didn't want to be here at all. After the long day she'd had, she'd much rather be in her hotel room soaking in the tub.

For one thing, she hated the flight east across the country to Washington. The three hours that you lost to the time difference combined with the five hour flight meant you spent nearly a whole day traveling. So by the time she arrived at the office, it was already mid- to late-afternoon.

Still, the day had started off great, there's no denying that. Chuck was so sweet driving her to the airport. His glassy eyes told her that he hadn't gotten any more sleep last night than she had. But there was something important that she learned about him. He was _really_ funny. He had her laughing out loud for the entire trip with his comments on the rude, reckless, and unbelievably aggressive Los Angeles morning commuters. She hardly ever laughed, and never out loud. It was exactly the honest expression of emotion that agents were conditioned to hide. More than anything, the fact that he could get her to laugh explained why Agent Sarah Walker had fallen for this guy so hard that she had once been ready to abandon her duty for him.

Maybe that little instance of eye-opening was the reason her goodbye kiss got a little out of control. A blush crept into her cheeks and down her neck even now as she recalled it. She was only trying to reassure him a little, especially since he was looking at her like he was terrified she'd never come back, and there was no better way to make sure he knew she was coming back to him than by kissing him in the middle of a crowded airport. She didn't mean to get pulled in by the warmth of his lips on hers, by the support of his arms snaking around her back, by the electricity that seemed to flow between them. She could get used to all that.

Chuck hadn't lied last night when he said that kiss on the beach wasn't his best effort. Sarah was never one to believe in fairy tales, but one goodbye kiss from him could get her to start believing in magic. It probably wasn't the first time that the morning commuters at the departing flights curb of LAX witnessed such an affectionate goodbye kiss, but it was clearly a first for Chuck. The redness in his cheeks broadcasted that to every passenger and pilot quite plainly. Still, he didn't shy away, at all, and she was left blown away by the intensity of it all. Now, sitting alone in the bar, she could admit to herself – had he asked her after that kiss, she would have climbed right back in the car, forsaken this trip, and gone back home with him to see where the kissing thing would have led.

But he hadn't. The only good thing about leaving him after that kiss was the warm afterglow of it made the long flight a lot more bearable. She, who hardly ever slept on a plane, or anywhere in public, was even able to get a nap in.

The official meetings were beyond boring. Come to find out, she was no longer a CIA Agent, hadn't been one for almost a year. Not that it came as a shock. She had been warned that was the case. The finality of no longer being on the inside, though, was a little jarring. As a civilian without any security clearance they wouldn't really tell her anything. All they wanted was to give her a physical, to protect themselves in case she ever filed a lawsuit, and get on record her account of the story with Quinn.

Sarah was seriously considering catching a red-eye flight back home, surprising Chuck, maybe seeing if they could recapture this morning's magic. She had an early morning meeting scheduled with General Beckman, but it was more social in nature. Sarah would have blown it off entirely had she not run into him in the hall, maybe randomly, but Sarah suspected not.

He was Eric Gold, Agent Eric Gold to be precise. They had a little bit of history, as anyone in the agency tends to do. For an agent, he was a nice enough guy, if uncreative when it came to personality. In that department, he was just like everyone else in the CIA: he didn't really have one, preferring to rely more on his good looks and his confidence. Carina, back in their C.A.T. Squad days, had, typically, tried to fix them up. A hook-up in Carina's mind, though, was radically different from what Sarah thought of it, even if she wasn't quite able to verbalize it. She humored him a few times, let him take her to dinner and out for some dancing. It wasn't a romance even by agency standards, but she ended the brief fling when she realized she wasn't looking for simply release, and whatever she was looking for, Eric Gold certainly couldn't provide it.

When he'd invited her out for a drink today, she'd turned him down immediately. She had no interest in whatever he had in mind. Even if she weren't married, she was past that phase of her life. Then, just before the elevator doors had shut, he'd dropped the bomb, told her he had some off-the-record information about her assignment.

She'd stuck a hand between the closing doors, given him one extra moment of assessment. She wasn't even an agent anymore. Her former superiors had made that clear, made what they thought of her choice even clearer. Whatever assignment he was talking about couldn't have anything to do with her. Still, she may have traded throwing knives in a darkened alley for carving knives at the Thanksgiving table, but she couldn't keep the agent that still lived in her from being curious.

That didn't make meeting him for a drink something to be at ease about though. She knew him. His ego would read more into it than she meant. The bigger problem, the bigger problem that she would have to learn to make a priority, was her husband. Chuck seemed to know every single detail about her. He would know about the men in her past. His finding out about what he may very well consider a date with someone he may very well consider an ex, no matter how innocently she could explain it away, could hurt him, could damage their fragile relationship, already hanging in the balance. She couldn't risk that.

She had been so close to shaking her head one final time and letting the doors close on him forever, but then a thought flit through her mind. Her last official assignment had been the Intersect project. In the short time since her memory loss, she'd read through a good chunk of the files, enough to know that 'Intersect' may as well be synonymous with 'Bartowski.' If Gold had information about that assignment, she needed to find out what he knew.

So she'd nodded, and he'd grinned and given her a time and place, and now she was here, and the only thing left to do was hope that he would adhere to her very carefully laid-out expectations. This was a single drink. Nothing more. Though, if things went south, she could claim exhaustion without lying.

Despite Sarah's best efforts to set expectations, Gold walked in with a swagger that told her he was looking for more than just a drink. She scoffed lightly, fingers twirling her wine glass. She shouldn't have allowed herself to be surprised. Agents don't really change. She may have been the exception to prove the rule. Not all was lost, though. No matter what he was looking for, she was an accomplished agent. She could get the information and get out of here without much damage. She only hoped it wouldn't have to be physical. Gold was handsome, if you liked that nothing-special-about-him type of handsome.

Halfway through his opening flattery, she stopped him. "Eric," she sighed, "this has been a really long day. I'm not trying to be rude, but let's get to business. What is it you wanted to tell me?"

Eric's eyes flicked around the room, making sure they weren't overheard. "I'm sticking my neck out here for you, Sarah. If the right people find out I told you this, I'm in hot water," he said, voice low. His mouth twitched, and he narrowed his eyes meaningfully. "I hope you'll understand and be appreciative of that. How'd you like to be reinstated?"

Unsurprised though she was at the suggestive part of his statement, she bristled. There were always the exceptional couples, but being married didn't matter much to a lot of agents. Even if he didn't think her marriage was a fake cover one, like the majority of the acquaintances she'd run into today had thought, Gold belonged in the latter category. At least he was being mostly transparent with what he was really after.

But Sarah was no longer there, no longer truly belonged with people who thought that way. "How?" she asked simply.

"Bartowski," Eric said softly. "You have a connection with him. Listen, there's a group within the agency that wants to reform the Intersect project. The project is under the radar for now, but it's only a matter of time. The technology is simply too powerful to keep under wraps for long. At some point, we'll need Bartowski. You already have his confidence. If you could stay close to him, be in a position to deliver him . . ."

She held up a hand, not needing him to go any further. It was true, agents used leverage to bargain with the agency all the time. If she had something they wanted, they'd bend over backwards to give her what _she_ wanted, which, in normal cases, was being reinstated. Becoming a field agent again would only be the top of a very long list of demands. If the agency knew that Gold was the one to tell her how to get leverage against them, he would sink as far as she could rise.

In this case, what they wanted was Chuck. Her initial sadness at the thought of an innocent man constantly being trapped by the agency quickly bubbled over into rage. How much sacrifice did they expect from one man? Not just any man, but the nicest, sweetest man in the world? They had already screwed up his life, taken away his father, his mother, his wife, five years of his life. Using him again like that was going to happen over her cold, lifeless body.

She took a sip of wine to give her time to calm herself. The worst thing she could do would be to let her anger explode in front of Gold.

"I'll think about it," she said with more calm than she felt. "It's late. It was nice seeing you again, Eric. Maybe we'll run into each other again sometime."

Striding through the door and into the cool night air, she bent her steps back toward the hotel. The rage was tempered slightly, enough, by the chill of the wind, but her heart was still pounding by the time she reached the hotel. Chuck was no bargaining chip, and, with everything she'd seen of the CIA today, all the manipulation and ass-covering, she wasn't even sure she wanted to be an agent any more.

x-x-x-x-x

Chuck couldn't get over how different Morgan's apartment looked. Alex had only been living here a few days, but her influence could be seen everywhere. It was now a bright, cheery home where before it was just a place for two spies to sleep. A woman's touch made all the difference in the world, and he could see the gratitude in her face when he complimented her on it.

Naturally, he felt a bit guilty about intruding on one of their first evenings as a living-together couple. "Come on guys," he said, "I appreciate dinner and everything. But you guys have been living together for less than a week. You need some alone time. You don't need to be babysitting me."

"Don't be silly," Alex told him, waving off his concerns. "We couldn't stand the thought of you sitting alone in that apartment waiting for Sarah to come back. How long is she going to be gone?"

Chuck, settled in an armchair, couldn't help smiling, a far-off look in his eye as he thought of his wife. It was the million-dollar question, wasn't it? Sometimes, in his more self-torturous moments, he wondered if she would come back at all. Then he started thinking about that goodbye kiss, not something he could easily forget, especially since it was something the old Sarah wouldn't have done.

"She's not sure," Chuck replied truthfully. "She thought a couple of days, maybe three. Who knows with the CIA?"

Handing him a steaming cup of coffee before settling on the couch with her own mug, Alex asked, "Is she remembering anything?"

"Some," Chuck admitted with as much smile as he could manage, "but it's coming very slowly. That's a little frustrating." Or more than a little frustrating.

Morgan plopped down on the couch beside his girlfriend. "Dude," he said, "would you stop all this gloom and doom stuff? If you want Sarah to remember things, you're going to have to make her want to. Woo her. Wine and dine her. Take her dancing. You're a rich dude. Take her to Paris. Put on the full court press."

Alex shook her head. "That's exactly the wrong thing to do," she protested firmly. "That's what Sarah is used to from men. She fell in love with Chuck because he didn't do those crazy, in-your-face type of things." Turning to Chuck, she continued, "Sarah loves you for a reason, lots of reasons. All you have to do is remind her of that. Be yourself. That's who she loves."

"And who do you think knows more about romance?" Morgan asked. "I say sweep her off her feet. It worked on you . . . three times."

"Says the man who broke up with me via text message," his girlfriend replied, directing a subtle eye roll in Chuck's direction. "You do realize," she laughed, "that winning me three times also means you lost me twice, right? You want Chuck to sweep Sarah off her feet like you swept Bo Derrick?"

"Hey," Morgan said defensively, "I'm telling you that happened. Chuck, back me up here."

Chuck laughed into his coffee mug. "I think that's my signal to go home," he said, taking a quick sip and setting it on the table. "Thanks for cheering me up. I think I might actually split the difference between your advices. If she comes back I'll sweep her off her feet, but I'll do it my way."

"You don't have to leave," Alex objected. "It's still early."

"Well," Chuck said, shrugging as he reached the door, "I have some things to do. And even if I didn't, I really don't want to be here to see you fight. And I really, really don't want to be here for the make-up sex."

x-x-x-x-x

Back in her hotel room, Sarah flopped on her bed. Her stomach growled loudly reminding her that, in her fury over the news about Chuck, she'd forgotten to eat dinner. She rolled over to pluck the room phone from its cradle and ordered a soup and sandwich from room service. In a moment, her evening was planned out: eating a quiet meal, soaking in the tub for an hour or so, and collapsing in bed until her morning meeting with Beckman.

As she hung up the phone, she let out a low groan. She knew going into this trip that she would miss Chuck, even after a day. She just wasn't prepared to miss him quite this much. She wasn't prepared for the ache in her chest that wouldn't dissipate, and she wondered if that feeling was anything like the one on Day 564, the feeling that finally got her to admit it, even if only to a video log.

Missing him wasn't the only thing on her mind. She was haunted by Gold's information. She knew her agency, knew how they just took what they wanted, especially when they were taking it from a person like Chuck. There was no tactic off the table. They would blackmail, seduce, threaten loved ones, even kill. With so many methods to work toward only one goal, there was no room left for concern for the mark's wellbeing. After being a tool of theirs for so long, she knew the arguments: the needs of the many over the needs of the one. But this time, the one was Chuck, her Chuck, her husband, the man she loved.

She balked at the thought.

That was not a word she would ever admit to lightly, not even to herself, in her head, in the privacy of a hotel room.

Then she realized, dazedly, that a smile was gracing her lips. She reached a hand up to her mouth, covering it in silly embarrassment, making sure it was real. Suddenly, she knew what she needed: to hear his voice, his sweet, sexy, smooth voice that could reassure her and inspire her and make her laugh.

She looked at the clock. She knew that he was going to dinner with Alex and Morgan. Even though she knew Morgan hardly at all and Alex even less, she recognized the gesture. They were looking out for their friend. That was sweet. Someday she'd have to find a way to thank them. It would be good for Chuck to maybe get his mind off everything for an hour or so, and she certainly didn't want to intrude on that. So she decided she could wait for a while to call him. Maybe in between the room service and the relaxing bath she'd scheduled in for herself.

Right on cue came a knock at the door. "I'm glad you're here," she said as she opened the door. "I'm really hungry. It's been -"

Sarah stopped as soon as she saw it wasn't room service with her meal. Eric Gold, wearing a white dinner jacket and carrying a single red rose and a bottle of wine, waltzed into the room, smiling confidently.

"I'm glad I'm here too," Eric said suavely as he held the rose out to her.

She eyed it warily, no doubt in her mind about his plans. His smile never wavering, he withdrew the rose but set it and the bottle of Chateau Margeau down on the table.

That's when the flash hit. Not an Intersect flash, a memory one. It came over her in a rush of pain, like a wallop to the heart. Chuck had tried the Montgomery on her once, too, and wouldn't you know it, Bryce happened to pick that night to show up and try to insert himself not-so-neatly into their lives again. The look of despair on Chuck's face wasn't even the worst part of it, the part she knew would be seared into her memory permanently now. That was when she had been completely paralyzed, unable to think of a single thing to say to him to make it better. She was so worried about the long run, that Bryce might see through her and report her and take her away from Chuck, that she didn't worry about the short run, that she was causing Chuck pain. She made the only choice she thought available – she allowed a humiliated Chuck to slink away without an explanation.

Even now, years later though it felt so much closer, the pain of hurting him was awful. It must have been something they got over eventually, but she wondered if she had ever apologized to Chuck for that, if he really understood why she had to sometimes do the things she did. Apologizing wasn't really an Agent Walker thing, but she was starting to think that needed to change.

That was something that could wait a little though. The first thing she needed to take care of was this jerk in her room. He had taken advantage of her flash of memory to move farther into the room, walking that slow walk that made him look like nothing so much as a lion stalking its prey. But she was no prey.

"Look, Eric," she said, taking the high road. If he turned out to be one of those guys who didn't take 'no' for an answer, this could get messy fast. The least she could do was try to avoid that course. "Maybe you mistook me earlier, but I'm not interested. In fact, I'm married."

His gaze went to her left hand, fingers flexing in futile wish that her gun were in easy reach. "Funny," he said, "I don't see a ring."

"We're working on some issues," she said, "but I'm sure, if you leave now, we can chalk this all up to a misunderstanding."

Shaking his head, Gold stepped closer and grabbed her arm. "I don't think so. Are you really going to play hard to get? I thought we agreed that you were going to be appreciative."

She could smell alcohol on his breath as he leaned in to try to kiss her, which already meant she had a good advantage, even with his weight and strength. Fury rising in her chest, she grabbed his hand and spun his arm around until his fingers bent backwards. He arched his back and let out a shocked cry of pain.

"You must have misheard me," she seethed. "If you leave now, you can leave with all your fingers."

She looked into his eyes, fleetingly wondering what happened to him, if he'd always been like this, or if she was the one to change, to start caring about more than herself.

He gave her a good shove, sending her stumbling backwards, then pinned her against the wall. "Come on, Walker," he slurred. "What's gotten into you? These things have unbreakable rules. You used to know that. All I want is what's owed me."

If she weren't so close to the situation, she could have laughed in his face. Only a man with an enormous ego could believe he deserved sex for one tiny tidbit of information. Instead, she did the most logical thing – she kneed him in the balls. He went down with a howl of anguish, hands cupped over his groin, allowing her to deliver a knock-out kick to the head, and he went down fully, silent this time.

She stood over his unconscious body, breathing heavily, the consequences of her actions falling down on her. A guy like Eric Gold could be dangerous if he chose to take offense to her rejection. He knew how to hold onto a grudge and knew how to settle a score. There was not much she could do about it now, though, especially that another knock was sounding on the door.

This time it actually was room service.

"Thank you so much," she breathed, tipping the boy a twenty. "You have no idea how much I need this right now. Also, can you send up housekeeping?"

x-x-x-x-x

Sarah waited until after taking a bath, after calming down, to call. Clad in a tank and boy shorts, damp hair tied up in a bun, she stretched out on the bed and dialed his number, the number that she certainly once knew by heart but now had to depend on her phone's contact list to know for her.

He answered after the first ring. Even the sound of his "Hello" put a smile on her face.

"Chuck, hey, how're you doing?"

If Chuck was surprised by the call, it didn't show in his voice. All she could hear was concern as he said, "Sarah, it's almost midnight there. Is something wrong? What is it?"

A smile still gracing her lips, she shook her head at the question, though she knew he couldn't see. It was something that she was starting to get used to, his worrying about her. It was just another aspect of his sweetness. Not to mention, she liked the feeling of being worried about.

There was no way that she was going to tell him anything about what Eric had told her about the Intersect or his ridiculous and clichéd seduction attempt. She might someday, but that was a conversation that should take place in person. She bit her bottom lip, knowing damn well she should just tell him the truth, plain and simple, that she missed him and wanted to hear his voice. He would like that. It might even help him get through the separation, however brief.

She just couldn't bring herself to say it. She squeezed her eyes shut, silently cursing herself for not thinking through what it was she wanted to say to him. She thought enough about him during her bath. Surely she could think of one thing to say.

One thing she could do was answer his question. "No, nothing's wrong," she said softly. Her eyes sweep around the room, fall on the rose and the wine bottle, still on the table by the door. "I just, I wanted to tell you that I remembered something about us tonight."

"That's good," he replied, noticeably brighter. "What did you remember?"

"I'll let you decide how good it is," she said, trying to inject more levity into her voice than she felt. "You know Roan Montgomery, right?" She thought she read his name in one of their mission reports, but her mind was admittedly not quite focused on Montgomery at the moment.

"Yeah, of course. Did you remember one of our missions with him? We became . . . sort of friends, I guess you would say. Ooh, you didn't remember that he and Beckman are an item, did you? That was an eye-opening mission. And slightly disturbing."

She chuckled in spite of her low mood. "He has a move, a rather famous move in spy circles. Did he ever happen to tell you about it?"

"Ahh, you mean the rose and the white jacket? Yeah, doesn't work."

"That's what I remember," she sighed. "I left you hanging. There was nothing I could do about it. I don't know if I ever said this, but I'm sorry."

"I understand, but why are you sorry?"

She shrugged, turning on the bed to burrow into the plush, down pillow, and admitted, "I don't know. There was nothing I could do really. But I can still see the crushed look on your face. I feel like I should have been able to think of something to make that better."

"You did."

She perked. "I did?"

"Yeah," he told her, laughing lightly, "you came over later, ditched Bryce and brought me pizza. We sat outside in the courtyard and dodged Morgan. You were . . . you were really great about it, actually." He sighed. "Look, there's no denying we've both made tons of mistakes. Actually, I've made far more than you have, but please don't feel bad about something that happened four years ago, okay? We're way past that. At least, we were once."

She paused, lips pursed. He was right. She shouldn't be apologizing for something that happened so long ago, shouldn't be apologizing for doing her job. She had a mission to protect then. Now, she still had that obligation, but in a different way. Her responsibility was still the safety of one Charles Irving Bartowski, but now that he was her husband, that responsibility included his happiness too. Really, the mere thought that this guy, this amazing guy who in the brief month she could remember knowing him had already proven time and time again that he would faithfully stand by her when most wouldn't, was her husband made her secretly ecstatic. This was not going to be a hard responsibility.

"Okay," she finally said, "want to know the truth?"

"Uh, what?" he asked, a smile in his voice, understandably confused.

"The real reason that I called is because I missed you, Chuck, and needed to hear your voice. I . . . I know it's hard for me to admit things like that a lot, but . . . I'm working on it."

Based on the silence that followed, she could only imagine he was grinning speechlessly, and for some reason she was beginning to guess at, it made her heart soar.

"Don't feel bad about that either," he said softly. "If you didn't say a lot, sometimes I said way too much for the both of us. But I think we've both come a long ways. After two days we're already ahead of where we were after two years the first time. At this pace, we're going to be starting a family by the end of the week."

She couldn't keep in the giggle, not that there was any reason to try, and God, how she needed that laugh right now, that laugh that changed the tone of the entire conversation.

"Admit it," she said playfully, "you were jealous of Bryce back then."

"Horribly jealous," he said, mimicking her teasing tone. "Ridiculously childlike. Do you remember that?"

"No," she answered, still fighting the giggles. "I'm just guessing. By the way, don't give up on The Montgomery. It _does_ work, but only when the girl wants it to."

"Good to know," he laughed. "Maybe I'll try it again someday."

"Goodnight, Chuck."

"Goodnight, Sarah. Get a good night's sleep, okay?"

"Okay, I promise."

"And don't worry about anything. We're going to be fine."

"I know we are."

"And Sarah?"

"Yeah?"

"I miss you, too. I'm . . . I'm really happy you called."

"I am, too, Chuck."

After the click on the other end of the line, she curled up, pulling her knees in, holding the phone close to her chest. His honest concern over her wellbeing was perhaps the sweetest thing she had ever heard. Maybe he was right. They had come a long ways. Still, they had a long ways to go. Her mind flashed back to the mission log Casey had given her. Now she understood a little better what that Sarah Walker was saying, why she was so conflicted. There was no longer any point in denying it.

She loved Chuck Bartowski.

And yes, maybe she still didn't know exactly what to do it about, but there was one promise that she felt entirely comfortable making to herself: she was going to figure it out.

x-x-x-x-x


	3. The New Old Friend

_We don't own Chuck. Actually, we don't own much of anything. _

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**The New Old Friend**

x-x-x-x-x

Sarah didn't know General Diane Beckman well at all. In fact before the incident at the symphony, she couldn't remember ever meeting her. She knew her by reputation only – pure, by-the-book military head of the NSA, intelligent and uncompromising, the very hardest of hard asses. No one could ever report seeing her crack a smile while on duty, and scant few when off. Knowing only this about the woman, she was disposed to respect her, admire here even. It was a hard job, requiring endless toughness, that the country depended on, and if the stories were true, Beckman was as tough as they came.

Then there was the matter of the rumored on-again off-again romance between the General and Roan Montgomery. It was something she was skeptical about, even after Chuck had confirmed it for her last night. She made a mental note to ask him what they'd witnessed that made them so sure it was real. It seemed more like the stuff of urban legend than something that actually happened behind the closed doors of the agency.

Logically, Sarah knew that Beckman had been her commanding officer for the majority of the past five years. Not remembering that, though, gave her a slight uneasy feeling, and made sitting across the table from the woman herself, remarkably intimidating despite her small stature, a mite uncomfortable.

True to her reputation, Beckman got right down to business. "Thank you for coming down here so early," she said. "I assume you're wondering why I asked to see you."

She may have known this woman for five years in some lifetime, but Sarah had decided the best strategy was to keep her cards close to her chest. There had always been a fair amount of inter-departmental rivalry between the CIA and the NSA, some of which had gotten downright nasty. It would probably be better if she didn't mention anything of what Eric Gold had told her about the Intersect project, especially since she didn't know any of the specifics anyway.

The earliness of the meeting didn't bother her. Besides being used to early and unusual hours as an agent, she was anxious to get the earliest flight home. She did have one more errand to run, but that was something she could take care of on her layover. It almost made her want to smile, thinking about how much she was itching to get back to Burbank, to Chuck. She'd never really experienced what it was to miss someone, until now, and she missed him tons, the feeling like a weight over her heart.

But she held in the smile, held it all in, and merely said, "Yes, ma'am."

When Sarah looked up, Beckman's reputation for never cracking a smile on duty was forever shattered. It wasn't a wide, toothy grin, but it was comforting. It was warm and friendly and it was definitely enough to stun Sarah.

"I have two reasons," Beckman said. "First, I want to thank you for your service. Your performance has been nothing short of phenomenal. So thank you."

"Yes, ma'am," Sarah replied, her confusion plain. "But five years babysitting a computer nerd?" Okay, even after just a few days with Chuck, she'd seen enough of him to know that he was more than that. But how long had it taken her to figure that out the first time? Even with the information she'd gleaned from the few reports she'd read on the plane, she had a hard time pinpointing the importance of the Intersect. It seemed more trouble than good mostly. "With all due respect, General," she continued, "that doesn't seem like a plum assignment. Was I being punished for some reason?"

Beckman reached over and grabbed a folder from her desk and plopped it in front of her. "That's the second reason I wanted to see you," she said. "I understand that your injury has caused you to forget much of the last five years. I'm very sorry for that. As someone who's seen what you've fought for over five years, I honestly hope you can recover soon." After a brief pause to let that sink in, she continued, "On its face, I can see how you'd think it wasn't all that important of an assignment, but I can't let you keep thinking that. I want you to know, Sarah, what it is that you and your team accomplished.

She indicated the folder with a gentle tip of her chin, and Sarah leaned forward to take it. When she opened it, she came face to face with a thick stack of mission reports, each one more glowing than the last. A smile grew on her face as she leafed through the pages.

"We took down Fulcrum?" she asked bemusedly. "One three-person team based around a nerd with a computer in his brain? After we've been fighting a war with them for –"

"Twenty years, yes," Beckman finished for her. "We've lost well over two hundred agents in that war. It took you two full years, but your team infiltrated their headquarters, had all their key agents report there, and we took it out with an air strike. Fulcrum ceased to exist that night. And it was solely because of your team, acting alone."

"The Ring?" Sarah said as she continued flipping through pages. "I've never heard of them."

"Nobody had," her superior informed her. "They were poised to take over the NSA, CIA, and the joint chiefs. Your team captured the leadership in a single arrest, and exposed the main internal conspirator. His name was Daniel Shaw." Eyes narrowed, she prompted, "Do you remember that name?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, ma'am," she said.

"I'm sure Mr. Bartowski will tell you the details of that story, but you tricked him into admitting the plot publicly. Stopping the Ring saved the country from possible martial law. You're impressed with the Fulcrum success, but this was much bigger than that."

"Respectfully, ma'am," Sarah said, setting the folder down, "how could one team possibly have accomplished all of this? Alexei Volkoff? The Russian arms dealer, public enemy #1? I remember hearing about him in training. We've been after him for years, but no one had been able to lay a finger on him."

"I don't blame you for being skeptical. That's why I wanted to bring you in and personally show you the mission reports. What I'm trying to get you to understand, Sarah, is that if you took the top one hundred agents in the world and stacked all of their career accomplishments together, they still wouldn't come close to your team. You had a secret weapon. His name is Chuck Bartowski."

Sarah did a double take. If the general didn't have such a serious reputation, she would be wondering if Beckman was playing a joke on her. "Chuck? I understand the Intersect gives him some additional capabilities, but he seemed like a fish out of water. I was just on a mission with him, and, frankly, he wasn't all that impressive, at least from a spy perspective. Now you're telling me he was the perfect agent?"

"I didn't say that he was a perfect agent," Beckman told her with a hint of a smile. "Far from it, in fact. He's quite possibly the worst agent I've ever encountered in my career, and he's been the biggest pain in my ass for the past five years. I will spare you the full details of his insolence, but suffice it to say I've lived the past five years in constant fear that my phone would ring in the middle of the night and I'd be forced to explain the latest foolish thing that he talked his team into doing. Until the two of you met Bartowski, you were the best agents we had. John Casey was a stone-cold killer who cared for nothing but obeying orders, and you were Graham's loose-cannon enforcer who'd go to any lengths to get the job done."

"And after?"

Beckman paused to consider her answer. "It was the damnest thing," she finally said. "Bartowski took the very best field agent in the world and turned her into a doe eyed, love sick schoolgirl who would do anything he asked, including disobeying direct orders. Colonel Casey perhaps wasn't nearly as doe eyed, but he also plainly became just as loyal to him. It simply defies belief. If I hadn't seen it happen with my own eyes, I'd think they were pulling my leg. Time and again I saw you two commit acts that were insubordinate at best and borderline treasonous at worst. You became completely uncontrollable, all because of your loyalty to Bartowski. You put his safety above all else."

"Then why keep us together?"

"You're holding the answer in your hand," Beckman said briskly as she indicated the folder Sarah was still holding. "I'm not stupid. When the three of you were together, your record spoke for itself. The destruction of Fulcrum was a direct result of him talking you and Colonel Casey into disobeying my direct order. I should have thrown all three of your asses into a cold dark cell and let you rot there." She took a breath, and her voice was much softer when she said, "But you saved the country. Who could ask for more than that? Sarah, if you're looking for reassurance about your relationship, all I can say is I've never seen such a transformation." When Sarah's expression wavered, Beckman added warmly, "But neither have I seen such happiness as I did when I saw the two of you together. I know what it is to juggle love in this world of ours, Sarah, but you and Mr. Bartowski somehow made it easy. You brought out the very best in one another."

Sarah's heart felt like it would beat right out of her chest. Even though it dovetailed with everything Chuck had told her so far, she could barely believe what she was hearing. Did her commanding officer actually just accuse Agent Sarah Walker of committing treason? That was such a hot button word for her, all agents really. All because she was in love? With a civilian? And the twinkle in her eyes plainly said that she approved, at least unofficially.

But she couldn't force a smile to her face. "I just wish I could remember any of it."

"So do I," Beckman replied kindly. "I'll not lie to you by pretending that I wouldn't love to have my best agent back. We could always use someone as talented as you. The truth is, though, that you've done more than your duty called for. You've given everything you had to give, beyond what we could possibly have imagined. Now it's time for you to heal, and maybe find the happiness you deserve."

Beckman stood up and offered her hand, an indication that the meeting was over. "Sarah, tell Chuck I said hello," she said warmly. "Tell him that my ass is almost completely healed. If he ever wants to be a pain in it again, he knows where I am."

Sarah couldn't keep the grin off her face. It wasn't the most appropriate reaction when meeting with a commanding officer, but General Beckman had just gone out of her way to do something very nice for her. She had just shown the personal loyalty for her team that many in leadership positions lacked. "Thank you, ma'am," she said as she moved towards the door. "I'll tell him."

x-x-x-x-x

Dr. Eleanor Bartowski-Woodcomb was not having her best morning of all time, especially after the last week she'd had. She was a creature of habit. Order and planning were everything to her. It was the only way she had survived putting herself through medical school while raising her brother. Currently, though, her life was anything but orderly.

Some of that loss of order was to be expected. Moving across the country was a disruptive event in anyone's life, and fully half of everything they owned was still piled in the middle of their new family room, packed away in moving boxes. Added to that, there was the brand new job, her husband starting his own brand new job, owning a home for the very first time, as well as dealing with a one-year-old who was only beginning to take her first steps and explore her surroundings. The result was something akin to pure chaos.

All of that was minor compared to her constant worry about Chuck. Their bond was one of the strongest forces in Ellie's life, only a tiny notch below the one she shared with Clara and Devon. She couldn't help but feel like she was abandoning him right when he needed her most, and none of his reassurances did anything to help. He sounded hopeful on the phone last night, but things were far from where they needed to be, from where they used to be. Ellie knew her brother well enough to know when he was putting on a brave face for her benefit. It was heartbreaking that, after so much effort to get those two kids together, it looked like they were right back to square one.

But right now her life was far too hectic to have the luxury of spending much time sitting around worrying over the future. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe, if she didn't agonize over it, things would settle down into a stable routine soon. Maybe she was finally able to see the light at the end of the tunnel this morning. Devon was at the hospital. Clara was just settled down for her mid-morning nap. Maybe, just maybe, Ellie could spend a few minutes unpacking some more of the moving boxes. A little each day, and hopefully soon she wouldn't have to rummage through a pile of boxes to find enough fresh clothes to get ready for the day.

However, fate had other plans for Ellie today than unpacking, because she was interrupted by a knock at the door. She sighed as she let go of the box tops and they fell back together. It was probably another one in the seemingly endless line of well-meaning neighbors welcoming the newest addition to the neighborhood. As the community feeling was a major reason they wanted to move to the suburbs in the first place, it was hard to complain about it. The suburbs were a nice, friendly, pure American Dream-type normal environment to raise their family, so Ellie forced the make-a-good-first-impression smile on her face that she reserved for such meetings and opened the door, only to be faced with the last person on Earth she'd imagined it could be.

For a long moment she was frozen, unable to speak. "Sarah," she finally was able to get out. "What are you doing here? Where's Chuck? Is something wrong?"

Sarah stood there, hands at her sides, a nervous smile on her lips. "Hi, Ellie," she said, looking around uncomfortably. "I'm so sorry to just show up like this, but do you think maybe I could come in for a minute?" She paused, the silence hanging heavy, then confessed, "I could really use a friend."

x-x-x-x-x

Chuck sat at his computer with his first morning cup of coffee. It was earlier than he would normally be up and about, but since he no longer had a job, getting ready for a shift at the Buy More didn't apply.

He wasn't awake out of habit, though. He just couldn't sleep. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in a little over a month now. More than that, he found that he really didn't want to be in bed. All it did was reinforce that there was now an empty side of it where she used to be.

Chuck had resigned himself to the fact that the Sarah he knew was gone, but he hadn't been prepared to see with his own eyes how cold and ruthless Agent Walker had been before he met her. He knew the stories, knew of the things she'd done. Casey was fond of telling him how much of a rebel she had been before. But somehow he refused to believe it was as bad as all that, because he'd always hated the uncomfortable look on her face when the subject came up. Reality was a great teacher, though. If blowing up the bomb with him, Morgan, and Casey inside the Intersect room hadn't been real enough, then ruthlessly kicking his ass around that house sealed the deal. He'd been convinced his wife was gone, possibly never to return.

Then fate had given them a second chance. She'd needed him for her mission to kill Quinn, which had given him an opportunity to be close to her, to work whatever magic he'd stumbled upon the first time. Maybe even spark some memories.

There'd even been some progress. She was starting to remember some things. More importantly, she was starting to show signs of some of the old Sarah feelings. That kiss yesterday morning at the airport was one of their hottest ever, certainly their hottest ever in public. Even better was her call last night, when she'd said she missed him, wanted to hear his voice. She couldn't have possibly said anything better than that. And she was coming home today. The thought warmed his heart, especially when the time he thought she wouldn't be coming home at all was so close.

That was the problem. He knew her. He knew everything about her. When things got emotionally uncomfortable, her reaction was to run. That would be the worst form of torture, not knowing where she was, or what danger she was involved in. He had to keep that from happening at all cost. Even though what he really wanted was to wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything was going to be okay, he knew that was the exact wrong approach. If he put much pressure on her, she'd crack like an egg. If he wanted to have a chance to make it work, to get her back, he had to go slow, couldn't pressure her, couldn't do anything that would make her run.

But it was the longest shot in the world. A computer nerd only had a one in a million chance of getting a beautiful super spy to fall in love with him once. But twice?

He was Chuck Bartowski though. His whole life was a series of long shots. He had to have faith that he had one more left in him. So he took a deep breath, and gave himself one of his short but inspirational pep talks.

_Go slow, stupid, or you're going to lose her._

x-x-x-x-x

Sarah accepted the mug of tea gratefully, taking a sip and taking a moment to clear her head as Ellie took a seat across from her at the kitchen table. The house was medium-sized, modest, settled in the suburbs. Exactly the kind of home a new family wants to start out in. Exactly the kind of home she and Chuck were planning on one day. At least that was what he'd told her. The kitchen was bright, splashed in yellows and creams, and the sunniness of it all made Sarah want to face this.

"I'm so sorry," she blurted, "for threatening to kill you, I mean."

There was really no excuse in the world for threatening to kill one of your best friends, except, of course, the one she had. She wanted to say something else, something more to convince Ellie that she never would have gone through with it, but they both knew she was a much different person without Chuck's influence.

To her surprise, Ellie smiled. "I appreciate the apology. I think we're both a bit too sensible for heartfelt platitudes, or to dwell in the past, but it's enough that I know that you mean it."

Sarah took a deep drag of tea, marveling at the way the liquid warmed her. Or maybe it was Ellie's inherent kindness. She felt at home in this kitchen, like a sister just stopping over for a chat after work instead of a nearly-estranged sister-in-law stopping in for an interrogation during a layover.

"So what's this really about?" Ellie prompted gently. "I wasn't exactly expecting you."

"No," Sarah admitted, shaking her head. "No, I'm sorry to barge in like this."

"Oh, Sarah, that's not what I meant," the older woman said with a light chuckle. "I only meant I thought you were in LA. What brings you out to Chicago?"

"I'm just stopping through on my way home. I had to go to DC for one last meeting."

"Everything go all right?"

Sarah nodded. "Yeah, everything was fine."

Ellie didn't reply right away. Sarah wrapped her hands around her tea mug, feeling the heat against her palms, trying to ignore the intensity of Ellie's gaze.

After a moment, Ellie ventured, "So what now? If you're officially done with spying, what's next?"

Maybe she couldn't remember becoming friends with this woman, confiding in her, sitting on the couch and drinking wine with her, being in her wedding, standing next to her at her own wedding, but Sarah didn't need those memories to hear what she was asking beyond the words. It was: _Will you stay with him? Will you make a future with your husband?_

There was so much she wanted to say, but Sarah was never very good at talking. It had never mattered much before, not in a life filled with bullets and bombs. Now, faced with warm brown eyes that reminded her so much of those waiting for her at home, she wished she were the kind of girl Ellie could relate to.

Her thumb ran absently over the porcelain handle, pausing as she realized the simple truth. They could relate, because they had something very important in common. They both cared about Chuck.

"Actually, Ellie," she began softly, "I came here because I want to know about Chuck. I mean, our life together."

"What are you saying, Sarah?"

Sarah took a breath. For a reason she couldn't quite place, this was more important to her than merely filling in missing history. This woman was more than a connection to her lost self, to her lost relationship. She was someone strong, someone to admire, someone to be a friend when everyone else had deserted you.

"I have a husband," she said, "waiting for me in a home back in California. I may not remember those things, but I'm willing to try. I just need some help filling in the gaps, and I don't feel right going to Chuck about some of it."

"You know I'll always be here for you, Sarah," Ellie smiled. "What do you need to know?"

Where to begin? _Tell me what happened to me in the last five years of my life,_ would be overwhelming for anyone, even a woman as in-control and amazing as Ellie.

She took another sip of tea before forcing the words from her mouth. "I'm . . . the way I am for a lot of reasons. You can blame it on my upbringing, or on the CIA. Whatever it is, I'm a lot different than Chuck." Ellie, blessedly, listened patiently to her stiff, stammering speech, waiting with quiet attention as she continued, "Well, it's just, Chuck's said some things, about how I've changed, and I just need to know."

A smile touched Ellie's lips. "You mean you need to know if you can trust what he's saying?"

Sarah's gaze dropped back to her tea. Ellie had hit the nail on the head. For the first days after she'd woken up, after Quinn had gotten to her she'd believed he was a mark, not her real husband at all. She'd been on guard, wary of his offers to help, whether it was helping with dinner or helping her relax with a massage. She knew Quinn was the bad guy now. She trusted Chuck, her husband, now. Still, no matter how much she wanted to believe him, it was hard to shake that ingrained belief that she couldn't trust _anyone_, not even a man who supposedly turned her from a hardcore superspy to a wife who wanted nothing so much as normalcy.

She trusted Ellie though. Everything about Eleanor Woodcomb spoke to her warmth, and Sarah could practically feel the honesty between them. Ellie would never hurt her, never use her memory loss to anyone's advantage. Not that Chuck would either. She only . . . she wanted to be sure.

Ellie sat back into her chair and took a long drag of tea. Sighing, she said, "Gosh, where do I start? I guess with the day I finally met you. Chuck brought you over for dinner, and he was _so_ nervous. Of course, I didn't know then, and I didn't know for a long time, that you and he were spies. He kept telling me you didn't care for him, but I could see it. The way you looked at him, it was like you couldn't really understand it, but my brother meant everything in the world, and you'd do anything to protect him. That's why I liked you so much."

"You liked me?"

"Oh, my God, Sarah," she smiled, shaking her head, "I thought you were the greatest thing to happen to Chuck. Ever. You brought out this whole other side of him. I loved seeing him like that."

"I was good for him?" Sarah asked, surprised at the quiver in her voice.

"Very." Ellie paused, breath hitched, then said, "He had a really tough time in college. He went through a bad breakup, and the guy he thought was his best friend . . . Well, the short version is that he lost his direction for a long time. And then you came along. And you were the only person who saw the potential in him, and could make him believe in himself."

Sarah felt a smile growing on her lips, felt an unfamiliar fuzziness in her chest. After what Beckman had told her about Team Bartowski's track record that morning, she couldn't help but feel pleased at having been one of the main reasons for its success. But it was more than pride.

Then she remembered the Charles Charles thing. The failed Montgomery move. If she was a reason for their success, she was also a cause of his pain. "It couldn't have been all good, though," she said, "especially if it was just a cover for so long. Did we have problems?"

"Of course," Ellie shrugged. "I witnessed countless fights between you guys. I didn't understand most of them, not when I look back on them now, but that's what relationships are about – overcoming obstacles."

"Tell me."

"Sarah."

"Please, Ellie. I need to know, and Chuck's not going to want to talk about this."

Ellie twisted her lips before finally saying, "I guess I never understood what you had. I thought you led him on a lot." Just as a blush of shame crept into Sarah's cheeks, Ellie added, "Even after I knew the situation, I didn't understand why you couldn't have just told him. If you had told him, even if there was nothing the two of you could have done about it, it could have saved you so much grief."

Sarah swallowing, passed a hand over her face. Yes, there were probably lots of things she could have done better, could have done right. But they could sit here and discuss _could have done_s and _would have done_s and _should have done_s all day. Wasn't this about moving forward? Making a new start?

"I realize, now," she said, her throat tight, "that there were a lot of things I could have done differently."

_But I didn't know how to handle my feelings_, are the words so close to spilling from her lips. Didn't she see that for herself on the mission log? _I love Chuck Bartowski_, is what she had said, _and I don't know what to do about it_.

_And I don't know what to do about it_.

It was like a haunting echo in her heart.

"Sarah," Ellie said, calling her from her thoughts with her soft voice and a gentle hand over hers, "stop thinking like that. There were a lot of things my brother could've done differently, too. He was always so insecure with you, always saying that you were out of his league. The point is you still have a chance. Maybe you guys weren't the most normal couple in the world, but you worked everything out in the end. Trust me, you'll work this out, too."

She didn't even have to look into Ellie's shining eyes to know the truth of that belief. It was all in the hope in her voice. But there was still the thing that kept gnawing at her insides. How could this man, this nice, sweet, lovable man ever think that anybody could be out of his league?

"I want to," she assured her sister-in-law.

"I know you do," the doctor replied with a grin. "That's why I know you're going to be okay."

Sarah took another deep breath. There was one more, very important question she couldn't ask Chuck.

"Ellie . . ."

"Hmm?"

"Was I happy?"

Ellie paused, mug poised in midair. Then she set it down, deliberately, never taking her gaze from Sarah, and took her hands to give them a good, reassuring squeeze.

She knew how she felt a month ago, before she ever heard of Chuck Bartowski. She was light years away from marriage, kids, _love_. To hear that, in five short years, a computer nerd had taken her from one end of the spectrum to the other was nearly impossible to believe.

But then, sometimes, aren't the most impossible-seeming things the ones that make you want to believe the most? Dad always told her that the bigger the lie, the easier it was to believe. Maybe this was like that.

"Sarah," Ellie said firmly, a heartening smile on her face, "I saw you smile more the first three days after you got engaged than I did the entire first three years I knew you. I saw you grow from a young woman who lived her life alone to someone who built a family with us, a family who loves you and would do anything for you, and I can't even tell you how many times you've risked your lives for us. I don't know if this is the life you envisioned for yourself, but I do know one thing: you and Chuck belong together. No matter how many times you need to, you'll always find your way back to one another. If anyone can prove that true love exists, it's the two of you."

Sarah swallowed back the tears threatening to come. She felt so safe with Ellie that she was afraid if she started crying, she wouldn't stop for an obscenely long time.

Through a teary haze, she managed to choke out, "So we were friends?"

"Yes," Ellie laughed. "We were best friends."

x-x-x-x-x


	4. Cheeseburgers and First Times

_We don't own Chuck. Actually, we don't own much of anything. _

_If you enjoyed this or any of the stories on this site, please take a second and send the author a review. It only takes a second – and it really, really makes a difference. That's probably more important than ever now that the series has ended. If you want to keep the Chuck fandom alive and continue to read about these characters, you really need to think about rewarding the people whose hard work make that possible._

**Cheeseburgers and First Times**

x-x-x-x-x

When Chuck picked Sarah up at the airport and told her that he had her favorite meal waiting at home, that suited Sarah just fine. She was starving.

It was sweet that Chuck would go to all the trouble of cooking her such a huge meal as lobster. It was an unusual thing to cook at home, especially with the absolute requirement of drawn butter. Surely he would know that. He was really trying. Hopefully he might even follow that up with The Montgomery they had talked about last night. Sarah knew that it was important that she not push him. She knew that he needed to go slow, that it would be better if he were the one to make the first move in the physical department. That's why she encouraged him on the phone last night. But if he came anywhere near a rose and a white jacket, he was certainly going to find out that it really did work when the girl wanted it to. And this particular girl was starting to really want it to.

She could hardly contain her excitement on the drive home, over the possibility of making real steps in their relationship tonight, but mostly because the thought of twice-baked potatoes was making her mouth water. As it was a must-have ingredient of her favorite meal, she really hoped he remembered it. Then again, he'd already demonstrated that he knew every single detail about her. Surely he would know a fact as simple as her love of twice-baked potatoes.

So when he slid the plate in front of her with a cheeseburger and fried potatoes, all Sarah could do was to stare down at it for a long moment.

'Stunned' was an understatement, a big one. She put a smile on her face, in an attempt to keep her disappointment from showing, but it was a struggle. Strangely, she found that it was less from the meal and more from finding out he didn't know her as well as she'd hoped. He must know that her diet wasn't heavy with red meats. That, combined with the greasy fried potatoes, the entire meal looked like an upset stomach waiting to happen.

Naturally, it took only one bite before Sarah realized that Chuck was, as usual, completely right. This was the best thing she'd ever tasted in her life, the favorite meal she didn't even know about. She chewed slowly, contemplating how many other favorites she was missing.

The sloppy burger, covered with condiments and toppings, including her beloved extra pickles, was messy to eat. She tried at first to keep the ketchup off her face so as not to look so foolish in front of him, but after a few more bites, she just went with it.

"Do we have any more?" she asked as she plopped the last bite into her mouth and licked the ketchup off her fingers.

Chuck's grin said he was clearly enjoying watching her devour that burger. "Of course. We usually split the next one, but I'm sure you're extra hungry tonight."

Sarah was far too busy and had her mouth far too full of food to carry on much conversation, which seemed to suit Chuck just fine. Finally, though, she couldn't take another bite, so she pushed away from the table.

"Thank you," she said. "That was without a doubt the best meal I've ever had."

"You're welcome," Chuck said. "Why don't you go unpack while I clean up the kitchen? Maybe you'd like to have a bubble bath and relax for a while. You're probably tired."

Sarah looked at him skeptically. "Are you really going to tell me that you do the cooking and the cleaning?" she asked. "That doesn't seem very fair."

"Well," Chuck admitted, "we usually did those things together, but I don't mind."

"Don't be silly," Sarah said lightly. "If I'm going to live here, I'm going to do my share."

Sarah shut her mouth abruptly, knowing instantly it was the wrong thing to say. He had frozen, and she didn't have to see the devastation on his face to know that treating this like it was an arrangement wasn't how she should be going about it at all, or to realize how much her slip up with words hurt him. Why was it that she couldn't seem to get a grip on this, that all the senseless things that fell from her lips were exactly wrong?

"I didn't mean to say 'if'," she said quietly.

"Okay," Chuck said as he resumed cleaning up, but it was unconvincing.

She felt an irrational bubble of anger in her chest. Yes, this was an unimaginably difficult situation for him, but she was having a tough time too. She was tired. He shouldn't be so sensitive over thoughtless phrasing.

"Come on, Chuck," she said much more firmly, "you know I didn't mean it like that."

"It's okay, Sarah," Chuck said. "Sorry. I know I'm being sensitive."

"You are. Stupidly sensitive," she agreed, lips pressed together in a firm line. She pushed down the frustration, because her husband was scared about losing his wife. That was not a suitable situation. She grabbed his hand, gave it a little tug to force him to look at her. "But it's not okay. I'm not as fragile as you think, Chuck." Her first instinct was to rail against him, make him see how stupid he was being. But she had to go slowly with this, with him. Her thumb ran slowly over his wrist as she looked in his eyes. He wasn't ready to be at ease around her, but maybe he wasn't quite ready for strong displays of affection either. There was middle ground though. A sly grin spread over her face as she joked, "It was a stupid slip of the tongue. I'd tell you that I'd do anything to make it up to you, but I recently had a bad experience with that sort of thing. When I told the room service delivery guy last night I'd do anything for an extra roll, he, well, he came up with something pretty disgusting."

That got them both laughing.

"I'll bet," Chuck said. "Would it make me sound insanely jealous if I said that we have to find you another hotel the next time you travel to Washington?"

That got them laughing even harder, and Sarah had to admit, it felt good, cathartic. Whether it was because of the laughter or because the immediate crises had been averted without casualties, she wasn't sure. As she slid into his arms and settled into an embrace, though, she knew she was lucky.

"Yes," she said, still laughing, "it would actually. But I'll give you a pass. Husbands are supposed to be a little jealous."

If anything, this little incident made one decision easier – she wouldn't be telling Chuck the story of Agent Gold's asinine behavior, at least not tonight. He may have been teasing about the hotel, but he was clearly the jealous type. Knowing there was someone in this world who cared about her enough to become protective over her made her strangely happy, but it also meant that she would have to tread carefully with the fact that she was clearly desirable to other men.

Sensing Chuck was growing uncomfortable with the length of their embrace, which had starting off friendly but was quickly developing into something more intimate, she fought her instinct to kiss him and instead stepped back.

"I'll tell you what," she said, "I'll let you clean up tonight while I take a bath, but only if we agree that we'll do those things together from now on. Okay?"

She looked up at him expectantly. It really was sweet of him to take care of the chores. She only hoped he would ease up on trying to take care of everything pretty soon. As nice as it was to have a husband who cleaned and cooked, or at least bought food, he shouldn't have to do everything. She wanted to help too, even if it was only with simple things like cleaning up the dishes. She wanted to do her part.

"You have a deal," Chuck said with a smile. He was not about to object to any opportunity to spend more time with her. "You're probably exhausted, and we've got a big day tomorrow. Why don't you go to sleep after your bath, and I'll see you in the morning, all right?"

Sarah nodded, trying hard to keep the disappointment from her face at the prospect of separate beds again. She was trying her best to go at a pace Chuck would be comfortable with, but how long was this going to last? It was probably for the best though. Given that she could barely control herself around him at regular hours, being in the same bed with him would undoubtedly lead to cuddling, which would very quickly lead to much more.

But they were married, had been for almost a year. More importantly, they were in love with each other. She may not be able to remember it, but they must have had sex scores of times. The world would not stop turning if they started acting like the married couple that they not only were but both genuinely wanted to be. Besides, what was this 'big day' they had tomorrow? She really hated surprises.

"Don't look so worried," Chuck said as he piled the dishes into the sink for a rinse. He grinned. "I haven't forgotten that you hate surprises, but I have my reasons. You're just going to have to trust me."

Sarah twisted her lips. How could she possibly argue with that? So instead of arguing, she leaned in and gave him a quick but affectionate kiss. "Goodnight, Chuck."

x-x-x-x-x

Chuck lay awake in his bed to his familiar routine of tossing and turning. He had come to hate bedtime. During the day he had things to keep his mind occupied, but at night all he could do was think about the empty side of the bed where she used to be. Yes, she was back home, which was a huge relief. Even better, she was showing signs of being comfortable here. And although her memory was returning in frustratingly small nuggets, it was returning.

Grudgingly, Chuck had to admit, even if it was just to himself, he was enjoying living with the new Sarah more than he feared. That was not something he could tell her, not when he couldn't see it as anything but a betrayal of her memory. Now, though, Sarah was more open, more comfortable talking, quicker to laugh and tease, definitely more affectionate. All those were good things, weren't they?

Still, their future together was far from a sure thing at this point. It was a positive sign that she seemed to be making such a genuine effort to reassure him, and there were times, glimpses really, when he swore that his old Sarah was standing there. Tonight after dinner was the most powerful. As she held him he could almost imagine that the incident with Quinn had never happened.

And that was the danger. If he allowed himself to give in to those feelings he would drive her away. And that was something that simply couldn't happen.

With him being so wrapped up in those desperate thoughts, Chuck didn't notice that Sarah was sitting on the side of the bed until he rolled over towards her.

"Sarah," he asked with concern. "What's the matter?"

"I can't sleep," Sarah said.

The words were barely out of her mouth before his expression turned to one of despair. Even in the dark, she could see it. She could tell immediately that he was jumping to exactly the wrong conclusion again – that she was uncomfortable here. She almost wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake him for not being able to realize that she was working as hard at this as he was, that she was just as frantic to make it work.

She cleared her throat and, watching him pull himself into a sitting position, said, "I'm sorry that I woke you."

"No, don't be silly," he replied sleepily, rubbing at his eyes. "You didn't wake me. I haven't been sleeping all that well myself either."

Sarah bit back a sigh and blew her breath out slowly. This was getting ridiculous. They both just needed to relax. With sudden determination, she lay down and plopped her head on the pillow, making sure to keep a respectful distance from him. But she also made it clear that she was in bed with him, and she wasn't going away.

"Tell me a story," she requested. "We kissed in front of a bomb. We thought we were going to die? What was that about?"

Chuck shrugged, his shoulders relaxing. "I only wish I knew," he said through a short laugh. "I was so confused about everything back then. Our relationship was a cover, but sometimes it felt so real. I know now that you just couldn't admit what you were feeling or you would have gotten into big trouble. But at the time I was frustrated. I'm afraid that I . . ."

"You broke up with me," she finished for him, sliding her cold feet under the covers. That explained the entry in the mission log, why she was so miserable. It must have been hell, falling for the sweetest man in the world and not being able to tell him. "You started dating that Lou girl from the deli." She paused, frowning, and stopped short of telling him the scene she remembered all too well, the moment when he had broken off their cover relationship, and she was forced to watch him leave, watch him walk across the street to go to another woman. That wouldn't do any good. But maybe acknowledging the hurt in her heart would, now that she was free to.

His shoulders slumped. "Why is it that you only remember the bad things?" he asked, only half-kidding. "Yeah, I'm afraid that I wasn't very supportive back then. But I am embarrassed, so you know."

She reached over and placed her hand softly over his. "Don't be," she said through a soft yawn. "I get it. It was hard for me too, falling for someone but not being able to say everything you want to. I think I understand why I'm only remembering the struggles."

"Okay, what's your theory?"

"We fought for each other, Chuck. Love doesn't come from having everything fall in your lap. It comes from the hardships and the trials, and the bonds we create during those times. It hasn't been easy, has it?"

"No, it hasn't," he agreed readily. "That's part of what makes what we had, um, what we have, so special."

Sarah noticed the tense mix-up, but wisely decided to let it slide. He didn't mean anything by it, and she'd already done the same thing several times.

"God, I was so jealous," she admitted, already feeling her eyelids growing heavy. "I'll bet I never admitted that to you. It's not exactly something I would've done." Somehow, even with the huge strides they were making, that didn't seem nearly honest enough. "I still am jealous, I think. How long's it been since you saw her? Do I have any reason to pay her a visit and maybe show her one of my knives?"

Chuck, to his credit, realized that she wasn't really kidding. Her confession sent a tingle down his spine. A person didn't get jealous unless there was something to be jealous about.

"Trust me," he said softly, "that won't be necessary. She hates me."

Sarah's eyebrows shot up in surprise. No one could hate a guy like Chuck. "What? Why would she hate you?"

He shrugged noncommittally, but she nudged him with her elbow, making him smile. He said, "Lou was fiery, and had issues with exes. When I told her I was in love with someone else, she didn't take it very well. I haven't been in the deli since. I'm pretty sure she would spit on my sandwich, in fact." His voice took on a wistful quality as he added, "A shame. I really loved her corned beef and Swiss."

Sarah pursed her lips. "I can make a pretty mean sandwich, you know."

"Thanks for the offer," he chuckled softly. Switching gears, he said, "I wasn't expecting you to kiss me that night. We'd been fighting so much that it was the very last thing I expected. You want to know something though?"

"What's that?"

"It would have been worth being blown up for. It's funny about first times, isn't it? As great and exciting as they are, it always gets better."

She felt herself grinning as she reached over to poke him in the arm. "Are you talking about that kiss in the airport yesterday?" she asked through a yawn. She settled down on the pillow, watching his face take on a pinkish tint.

Chuck reflected on the question for a moment. "Maybe," he finally replied softly. "But I have to tell you, that kiss yesterday was ten times better than our first kiss, hands down. It was just as unexpected though. Kissing is something that we've gotten very good at. It's actually the thing I miss most." After a brief pause, he ventured, "Do you remember any of them?"

Sarah's only response was a soft snore. She was fast asleep.

Chuck considered, briefly, giving her the bed and going to sleep on the sofa, but he decided to stay. For one thing, she still had a firm grasp on his hand. Leaving would probably wake her, and he didn't want her to have any trouble falling back asleep. More importantly, she looked comfortable. She had to be comfortable, if she fell asleep that quickly, and he knew her well enough to realize how big that was. In fact, whether she realized it or not, there wasn't much she could have done better for him at this point. For the first time, Chuck allowed himself to hope that this would work out.

He reached down with his free hand and pulled the covers over her, up to her shoulders. Then he bent down to kiss the top of her head. "Goodnight, Sarah," he whispered. "I'm still willing to fight just as hard. Just don't give up on me, please."

Five minutes later, Chuck was sleeping as soundly as his wife was.

x-x-x-x-x

Chuck hovered between sleep and waking. Eyes closed, he felt like every sensation was ten times greater. He could feel Sarah in her normal position, snuggled comfortably against his chest, hand beneath his t-shirt, rubbing soft circles on his stomach. The glance of her fingers over his abdomen was enough to set him on fire. He could feel her breath against his collarbone, warm and steady. Her legs were intertwined with his so that he wasn't sure where he ended and where she began. He smiled as he came more fully awake, but kept his eyes closed, absently stroking her hair.

Sarah stirred, letting out a low, drowsy groan.

He chuckled softly, his breath sending wisps of her hair fluttering. "Morning, babe," he said, finally opening his eyes to the sight of his beautiful wife in the morning. He stretched to place a kiss on her forehead.

He was only a few seconds too late in realizing his mistake. He grimaced, pushing back the vestiges of memory that still clung to his mind, refusing to let go. He wanted nothing more than to slide away from her, out of this intimate position, but he was frozen. Sarah never would have allowed herself to be caught like this with anyone except those she trusted with her very soul, except with him, as they were before. As heavenly as it felt to hold his wife, this was definitely something that could scare her into running. Unfortunately, there was little he could do. Trying to untangle himself would only wake her up. He was saved from making a decision when turned her face up to his.

"Hey," she murmured, a smile on her lips. "This is how we always sleep, isn't it?" she asked, not moving a bit or even lifting her head from its comfortable spot. It was far more of a statement than a question.

"Uh, yeah," he replied. "Do you remember?"

She sighed and shook her head. "No, not really. I don't have to remember though. This just . . . it feels right, Chuck, like this is where I belong."

"Sarah, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen."

Stubbornly, Sarah stayed right where she was, like she was going to relish every single second with him. "Stop that," she scoffed lightly. "I'm not, and I'm the one who tried to take over your side of the bed."

This was unquestionably the best feeling of her life, waking up next to a man who loved her, being held, feeling secure. The mere thought that she'd experienced this wonderful feeling every night for over a year without any recollection of it saddened her.

"This is a good feeling, Chuck," she continued emphatically. "Why would you be sorry for that?"

"I just meant it's a bit too soon, isn't it?" he shrugged. "I promised to not pressure you. Pretty sure getting you in bed and feeling you up in your sleep violates that."

Sarah sighed again, louder this time, as she forced herself to roll away from him. Being this close to him felt so good that if she didn't get away from him soon, she was more than likely going to start ripping clothes off and start the day off with a big bang. Not exactly something Chuck was ready for.

"You felt me up?" she asked with a smirk. "I must have missed that part. Maybe you could show me again?"

Chuck laughed, but she could tell by how red his face was that he was incredibly embarrassed. He was also incredibly cute though.

"Okay, maybe not literally," he protested, "but we were very close. Who knows what happened while I was asleep? It was only a matter of time."

She wanted desperately to kiss him, to devour him. Maybe he wasn't quite ready for it, but he clearly wanted it, too. She also knew that they were very close to a point of no return. If she were to kiss him here, in bed, there was no going back. If he wanted to wait, she'd force herself to wait with him. Still, that didn't mean she had to give up completely. He needed to compromise a little in this deal as well, stop feeling so panicked.

"Would it really be that horrible?" she asked, eyebrow quirked.

A melancholy look crossed his face, gone in a moment. "I'm sure I could suffer through it."

"Look, Chuck," she said, reaching for his hand. "This is hard, for both of us, but you need to stop walking on eggshells around me. I want this to work just as much as you do. I'm not going to let this fail, okay?" She waited for him to nod before continuing. "Now, we both want to make this work, but why does have to _feel_ so much like work? We're young and in love. We should be having _fun_. We should be happy, not miserable. And you know what? I like sleeping beside you. That's something that makes me happy, so you're just going to have to deal with it."

A smile tugged at Chuck's mouth. "You want to sleep here? What if . . ."

"What if you really do feel me up?" she asked with a soft chuckle. "You're my husband, Chuck. If snuggling with you is the price I have to pay for feeling like I do when I'm beside you? It's no price, Chuck. This isn't just some arrangement. It's a partnership. We need to start acting like partners. Any questions?"

Chuck knew that tone, and it made his heart soar. Before they were married, Sarah – Agent Walker – would never have been that open with her feelings, would never have gone on that rant. She would have suffered in silence. No, this was Sarah Bartowski – his wife – just before the accident. She always was fond of telling him when he was being a fool, especially in regard to their relationship.

He also knew her well enough to know that it was decided now. He could either give in peacefully or fight, and lose. Still, he had to make sure.

"Just one," he said with a grin. "I understand that you're trying to look out for me, I really do, just like I'm trying to look out for you. But are you sure it's not too soon?"

"That's not a very good question," she told him, smiling back at him. She leaned toward him, her face close to his, and put her mouth near his ear. "Any other questions?"

"No, ma'am," Chuck said playfully.

"Good," Sarah said as she teasingly pushed him out of bed. "Now go take your cold shower before you end up hurting yourself."

x-x-x-x-x


	5. Sins of the Father

_We don't own Chuck. Actually, we don't own much of anything. _

_If you enjoyed this or any of the stories on this site, please take a second and send the author a review. It only takes a second – and it really, really makes a difference. That's probably more important than ever now that the series has ended. If you want to keep the Chuck fandom alive and continue to read about these characters, you really need to think about rewarding the people whose hard work make that possible._

**Sins of the Father**

x-x-x-x-x

One good thing about cold showers was that they were cold. Very, very cold. It was something both Chuck and Sarah needed this morning if they were going to face each other without breaking their resolve to go slowly. Even if Sarah didn't quite see the need for it, Chuck did, and she was going to stick to it, for his sake.

One bad thing about going slowly, though, was that it took away most of Sarah's options to find out Chuck's surprise, and he clearly wasn't about to tell her on his own.

But, she found out as they got closer, it wasn't something he could hide for very long. As soon as Chuck pulled off the freeway, Sarah knew where they were going.

She sat speechless for a moment, before turning to him and asking, "How do you know about my mom?"

Chuck, seeing the tension in her eyes, knew that she needed a quick explanation. He reached over and took her hand.

"Relax," he said, "the situation with your mom is all resolved. I know about Hungary."

"How?"

"About two months ago, your old handler found out where you'd hidden Molly. We had to go on a mission to protect her. To make a very long story short, you killed him and we captured the rest of his team. Don't worry; everybody's safe, and there's no longer any reason to hide Molly."

Sarah stared out the window, feeling an unspoken weight lift from her shoulders. How long had she been worrying about one little girl? How long had she been unable to speak of it? And Chuck knowing about Hungary was the last straw. He officially knew every single detail about her. Why pretend anything else was true?

Finally, she asked, "Have you met her? My mom, I mean."

"Of course," Chuck nodded. "She and Molly spent a night at our place during the mission. She's six now, you know. She spent the day kicking Morgan's butt around the room with video games. I think she might have a small crush on him. They're both the same emotional age, after all."

That got a sad smile. "She's six?" Sarah sighed. It barely seemed possible. "How's Mom?"

"She's great," Chuck said with a reassuring smile. "Fantastic, really. And she knows all about your, um, condition. She didn't want to scare Molly, so you might want to act as if you've met before. You've already been introduced to her as her sister."

_Sister_. The word tasted sweet on her tongue.

x-x-x-x-x

Sarah had never been much of a hugger. She used to shy away from physical affection from both of her parents, no matter how much time had passed since her last moment with them. But once her mother's arms were around her, steady and solid and safe, she found she never wanted to let go. The best part was that she didn't have to say a thing. She just squeezed and breathed in that familiar scent of laundry detergent and freshly-baked cookies that reminded her of the very best moments of her childhood.

It was a long while before either of them said a word, before either of them let go.

Chuck tried hard to hide his interest by turning to Molly, kneeling down to ask, "Are you ready, kiddo?"

Molly grinned with anticipation. "Are we really still going?"

"Of course we are!" he exclaimed. He pulled a teasing frown. "You promised me. Don't even try to get out of it now."

"Where are you two going?" Sarah asked, a smile tugging at her lips as she watched them. She couldn't ignore the way her heart fluttered at their easy interaction.

Chuck flashed her his easy things-are-okay grin. "We're getting out of here to have some fun. Who wants to stay here and watch you two hug all day? Eww, right, Molly?"

"Eww," Molly quickly agreed, her nose scrunched up. "Chuck's going to take me to Chuck E Cheese for lunch."

"Oh, Lord," Sarah said with a grin of her own, "are you sure about this? Being at a place that caters to a bunch of kids, being stuck with one who's all hopped up on sugar and pizza, and running from video game to video game? It might get wild."

"I'm planning on it," he replied with a charming smile. "We'll be back for dinner."

"Actually," Sarah said, breaking into a laugh, "I was talking to Molly." She knelt down and grabbed her hand. "Keep an eye out for him," she said with a wink. "Word on the street is that he gets a little crazy around video games."

x-x-x-x-x

Chuck and Molly were barely out the door when Emma began bustling around the kitchen, getting their lunch ready. Comfortable silence reigned until the plates were on the table.

Sitting down across from her daughter, Emma finally took a moment to look at her properly. Not much had changed in three months, not much that you could see, at any rate.

"So," she began cautiously, her voice soft, because Sarah was one to get startled easily, "how are you feeling, sweetie?" She wanted desperately to take her hand, but that was the wrong move. "Are you remembering anything?"

"Bits and pieces. It's coming slowly," Sarah admitted with a small shrug. Her voice took on a sad quality as she continued, "It's starting to frustrate Chuck. I feel bad, but I don't know what to do to help."

Emma shook her head. "He's not frustrated," she insisted. "He's scared. There's a big difference. He's worried about you. That's all he talks about."

Sarah's brow knitted. "Wait, when have you two talked?"

"He's been calling me every week or so," Emma explained quietly. "Just to check in and see if we need anything. He always talks to Molly for a minute." She paused, took a sip of coffee, then said, "She's started to really look forward to those calls. She doesn't have a man in her life like the other kids. That's important, and Chuck being there really helps. I can't tell you what they talk about. All Molly does is giggle. By the way, thank you for the money. It was very generous."

Sarah shook her head, perplexed. "Money?"

Emma sighed softly. "I wasn't sure if you knew, but I thought not. About three weeks ago, Chuck called and said he was coming into some money. He said he wanted to help take care of me and Molly. So he set up a trust fund. The papers just came yesterday."

Sarah bit her lip as she constructed the timeline in her head. "Three weeks ago," she mused, "he didn't have a clue where I was. The way I left things . . . he didn't know if he'd ever see me again." She nearly asked out loud why he would even do that, given the circumstances, but she already knew the answer. She turned back to her mom. "How much?" Emma hesitated, and Sarah pressed, softly but firmly, "Mom. How much?"

"Five million dollars," confessed Emma. "He set up an annuity so that I get a monthly check, and Molly gets a lump sum when she turns eighteen to pay for college. Sarah, it's really going to help out. You know how tight money's been."

Sarah took a bite of her mac and cheese to give herself time to think. It was just like her mom to make such a comfort food for her, a food she thought of as a remedy for skinned knees and the peculiar heartache that comes from being teased. She knew the answer, but she also knew she wanted to hear it from her mother's lips.

She lifted her eyes. "You really like him, don't you?"

"I don't like him," Emma scoffed. "I liked him for about a minute after we met. No, I love him now. He's more than I ever dared to hope for in a son-in-law." She smiled. "You had me worried for a while. I mean, Bryce Larkin? Really, sweetie?"

"I never meant for you to meet Bryce," Sarah said, blushing. "That was an accident. Bryce Larkin was never going to be your son-in-law."

"I know," she replied, a twinkle in her eye.

"Mom," Sarah said, "I really need to know. When you saw me a couple months ago . . . was I happy?"

Emma took a deep breath and another sip of coffee. "When I was at your place last month, I asked you a question. You were watching Chuck play on the floor with Molly. I've watched you grow, but never once have I seen you that content. So I asked you if you ever thought that all the roads you traveled, all the paths you took, would lead you to that place."

Sarah wrapped her palms around her coffee mug, feeling the warmth leech into her skin, willing that warmth to travel the length of her body. She ached to remember this moment.

"And you said," Emma continued, watching her closely, "that you never thought so, but you were happy, and so, so lucky. That you'd finally found a place to belong. My point, Sarah, is that you're the only one who would know if you were truly happy. But I know for sure that I was happy _for_ you." After a pause, she said, "Tell me something, Sarah, and I want you to be honest. Why is it so hard for you to believe that you could possibly have been happy?"

"It's a long story," Sarah sighed. "A really long story."

Emma shot her an encouraging look. "I have time." But Sarah only took another bite of macaroni, and Emma relented. "He is a really great guy, though. He'd do anything to make you happy. Maybe you should give him a chance. Guys like that don't just fall from the sky."

"Why is everyone so afraid I'm not going to give him a chance?" Sarah asked, more fire and frustration in her voice than she'd intended.

After a pause, Emma, smiling slightly, said, "You have to admit, he's not exactly your type. And he's not the type a beautiful superspy would choose to spend her time with as she traipses about the world."

"Why?" Sarah fired back, trying and failing again to keep her composure. "Why do I have to admit that?"

"Well, you did spend years going out of your way to land the suave, bad boy type. And it lasted well into your 20s, so don't say it was just a teenage phase."

Sarah clenched her jaw. With effort, she forced out, "Chuck . . . Chuck is different."

"He is," Emma agreed with a sage nod. "And he knows it, too. Which is why it's understandable he's worried you won't give him the chance to prove himself."

"That's not in question, never has been. It's only been a few days, I know, but I understand how great he is. Perfect, really. I can't imagine loving him more than I do already, or my life without him. But why can't he believe that? Why can't you?"

Emma answered the question with one of her own. "Have you ever told him that?" Off Sarah's look, she continued, "I realize how difficult it is for you. You inherited that particular trait from your father, I'm afraid. If you really want him to know how you feel, then tell him you love him. Sometimes that's all it takes."

Another sip of coffee, another bite of pasta, another moment of pensive silence.

Then, from Emma again, "I notice you're not wearing your wedding ring."

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut and ran a hand over them. "I'm not good at expressing myself. You know I never have been. And the wedding ring, Mom, it's complicated. I don't want to put any pressure on him. You don't understand. He's questioning everything, blaming himself. He's so . . . _fragile_ right now."

Emma snorted. "And you think not wearing your wedding ring is making him less fragile?" More gently, she said, "Don't you think he asks himself why, and maybe he doesn't like the answer he comes up with?_ He's_ still wearing his ring."

Frowning, Sarah leveled an accusing look at her mom. What she needed was motherly advice, not to be told she was doing everything wrong. "I just don't know what to do for him," she admitted, her shoulders slumping. "Every thing I do, every single thing I say, is the exact wrong thing. I'm trying my best."

"I know you are, of course I do," Emma assured her, reaching out to rest a hand over hers. "But sometimes a simple 'I love you' works wonders."

Emma hesitated. She didn't want to talk badly about Jack in front of Sarah, especially knowing how much she loved him. They both held equal shares in the blame for everything falling to pieces. She could have tried harder, to make it work, to make a better life for their daughter.

"The fact of the matter is that your father and I didn't give you very good examples. You don't know how to be a wife, because I never showed you what it was to be a good one. But Chuck is a good man, a very good man, and he deserves a wife who loves him, who is always going to be there for him, who would do whatever it takes to get the two of you through this, including going outside of your comfort zone. If you can't be that, then you should tell him the truth and leave." Smiling, she squeezed her daughter's hand. "But that's not going to happen, is it?"

Sarah shook her head as a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "No," she said, certainty filling her voice, "it's not."

"I didn't think so," Emma grinned. "That's why I'm not all that worried about Chuck. Sure, he's in a low spot right now, but he has you to watch over him. You're going to rescue him."

x-x-x-x-x

The ride home in the dark was quiet, to say the least. Chuck was giving her space to sort out her thoughts, and Sarah had no inclination to break the comfortable silence. Old habits were hard to break. She wasn't accustomed to having someone to confide in, especially someone who seemed to already know her every secret. Someone the people she loved already seemed to trust and love in turn. It seemed strange, downright unreal, the way her mom treated Chuck, like he was a life-long friend after meeting him only twice and talking to him a few times on the phone. But she couldn't deny what a huge relief it was either. She let a smile come to her lips. It was probably a good thing she liked him, seeing as how he was going to be her son-in-law for the rest of her life.

The man in question had been nothing short of perfect all day, almost too good to be true. Molly made no attempt to hide that he was her new favorite person in the world, the one she preferred to both her mother and her cool, butt-kicking older sister. It only made sense, she supposed, since he had been the one to pump her full of sugar and video games.

Heart full of warmth, she glanced over at him, suddenly noticing the bags under his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged. He was exhausted. Here he was, having a horrible month, and he still found the time and the strength and the generosity to make a six-year-old feel like a princess for a day, make her giggle incessantly throughout dinner. It was the sweetest, most unselfish thing that Sarah had ever witnessed in her life. And the best thing is that he did it because he wanted to.

Just like setting up the trust fund that he clearly wasn't going to tell her about. What kind of man gave away five million dollars without wanting something in return? Money wasn't important to him. _Family_ was. And now he considered her family to be his. He wanted to look out for them even when he had every right to believe that their marriage wasn't going to survive.

Her mind wandered back to Bryce. He could have been every bit as charming when he wanted to be. He would have possibly done similar things, but not with the same selfless intentions. Bryce would have had an agenda. Chuck wasn't doing this to impress her, to bank up a favor for when he wanted something later. He was just a genuinely nice, warm, generous man.

Suddenly, Sarah was almost glad she didn't remember those days of falling hopelessly in love with the nicest man in the world and not being able to do a damn thing about it. She hated not having the good memories, of course, but there was so much pain mixed in as well. Thank God that he had hung in there with her.

And he was such a natural with Molly, who loved him unconditionally. Sarah suspected Molly had fallen in love with Chuck about ten seconds into their first conversation. And why not? What a father he would be. How she couldn't wait for that day to come. She could picture the scene now – Chuck tucking their own little girl into bed, reading her a bedtime story. She wanted to share that experience with him more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.

She knew now it was up to her to make that happen, to do whatever it took. Her mom's words echoed in her mind. If she loved him, and she most definitely did, it was her job to get him over this.

So as soon as they were comfortably back home and through the door, she took both of Chuck's hands and forced him to face her. Then she kissed him. Softly, sweetly, nothing like the airport kiss a couple of days ago. It was affectionate, though, and electric. When the kiss broke, she pulled back just enough to be able to look at him.

"Thank you," she said softly, "for the perfect day. I can't tell you how much it meant to me. You were amazing, really."

She was ready for this tension between them to be over. She leaned back in and kissed him again, with more passion this time. And if one kiss led to another, and another led to an open button, and if an open button led to the bedroom, then she wouldn't complain one iota.

Except that Chuck was still not ready for that, judging by the way he tensed up. She broke off the kiss and, reluctantly, took a step away from him.

"Chuck," she began, "if I ask you a question, will you give me an honest answer?"

"A straight-up, no B.S., no telling-you-what-you-want-to-hear answer?" Chuck asked with a smile, clearly mocking her from a few days ago. "That kind of answer?"

Sarah wasn't in a teasing mood. "Yes, that kind of answer. Tell me the truth. Why are you so tense? Am I doing something to make you uncomfortable? If am, then I need you to tell me so I can stop."

"What? No, you've been perfect," he assured her quickly. "And I know you're really making an effort. I appreciate that."

Sarah, surprised at his choice of words, tilted her head. "What does that mean? 'Making an effort'?"

"I didn't mean anything by it," he protested quickly. He took a deep breath, then sat down on the couch, drawing her beside him. His hands laced in hers, he said, "Look, I know that you're going out of your way to try to make me comfortable."

He paused, searching for the words. In the spy world, she was the very best there was, trained in basic survival. The first lesson she learned was that the only person she could trust was herself. She was an expert on depending on herself, and she was comfortable there, knew how to protect herself physically and emotionally. It was the only life she ever knew.

Then he came along. He came along and asked her to throw all that out the window, to tear down all those walls she'd built and to make herself vulnerable, to enter a world where she didn't know how to act or protect herself, one in which she didn't even have any example in her past to serve as a guide.

"We come from two different places," he said finally. "Think about the world you lived in when a guy like Quinn coming into your hotel room and giving you an assignment to get rid of me was normal, and think about my world, the world you stepped into willingly. I asked you to trust me to protect you after you learned that you can't trust anybody, and you did it with nothing other than the faith that I wouldn't let you down." He gave her fingers a squeeze. "I can absolutely see why you wouldn't want to start over again. That's all I meant by effort. Let's face it. You're trying to be what I want you to be. It's okay to be honest about that, isn't it?"

Sarah was stunned that he had just summed up her most inner conflict in a single breath. It was one thing to know facts about her, but he had just demonstrated that he knew her very core. It was intimidating, to say the least, but maybe not wholly unexpected.

Their biggest problem, though, was a glaring one. He thought she was forcing herself to pretend for his benefit. Because he had only told half the story.

"Even if everything you said were true," she said, "did it ever occur to you that I got something out of being with you, too, something I desperately needed? That I made the decision with my eyes open?" She pressed herself closer to him, and her voice was softer, less insistent, when she said, "Chuck, haven't I made it plain that I want to do this, that I want to be here?"

Chuck was silent, and Sarah could only stare into his troubled eyes for a long moment. He just told her everything she needed to know about them. He knew her so well that she felt almost naked in front of him, yet there's something he hadn't factored in. The first time so much harder. They'd been fighting against the impossible. For the old Sarah, falling in love was forbidden, the only thing she thought she'd never be able to achieve, in fact never aspired to. It was the very last thing she should have done, and, knowing that, she fought against it with her ever fiber.

"I think you're forgetting something though," she murmured.

"What's that?"

"It's different this time. The first time, we had so much against us." Thinking back now, it was like it was supposed to happen, as if every moment in her life had led to him. "Now, I don't have to fight it anymore. You're my husband, Chuck. Why should I pretend? I trust you to protect me. Now I only wish I knew you as well as you know me so I could protect you, too." She wanted to know him that well again, she really did. "Until that day," she pressed, "why don't you help me out a little and tell me the real reason you're so troubled?"

Chuck still didn't say a word, just stared at her with those incredibly sad eyes. He shook his head, just a mere twitch, but it was enough to send Sarah over the edge. It was time to do this her way, the only way she knew how, even if it wasn't quite what he was used to.

"Okay, Chuck," she said, pulling out of his embrace and stalking to the other side of the room, "I can't help you if you won't level with me. Gentle isn't working, is it?"

"Sarah," Chuck sighed, slumping back into the couch cushions, "I don't know what you want me to say."

She bit back a scoff, but she couldn't help the rise of frustration in her voice as she rounded on him. "Say something at least, anything. Tell me the real reason, damn it!"

"You wanna know the real reason, Sarah?" he began to shout.

"Yeah, I do!"

"Fine! I don't deserve you!" He yelled, jumping up from the couch. "I don't, all right? I never have. Happy now? Is that what you wanted to hear? Do you want to see me totally broken?"

His shoulders shrugged helplessly, but she could only stare at him, dumbfounded.

"Come on, Sarah," he barreled on, "look at us. You're a goddess – you speak like, six hundred languages and you're an amazing dancer and you've been all over the world, and I'm a college dropout who works at the Buy More. You're the most beautiful woman in the world, used to being wooed by handsome superspies and princes in dinner jackets while my Saturday nights are spent playing video games in my pajamas with Morgan. You're champagne and caviar; I'm pizza and beer. What could you possibly see in me, especially twice?"

Sarah had to clench her jaw and ball her hands into fists to keep from exploding, but the anger bubbled up inside her chest, spilling over until she couldn't contain it anymore. In two steps, she stormed forward and pushed him back into the couch.

"Sit," she growled, pacing back in forth in front of him, a lioness trapped in a small cage.

Finally, after many deep, calming breaths, she stopped pacing long enough to hold up a threatening finger. "First of all," she said, "you don't talk that way about the love of my life. You know I don't take crap from anyone, and if anyone else talked about you like that, I'd be kicking their ass around the room right now. The Buy More, Chuck? I read the mission reports. You're a _hero_. Who cares if nobody knows? I do."

Chuck shook his head despondently. "That's just the computer in my brain," he said. "That wasn't me."

A bit more gently, she shook her head and insisted, "It was you, Chuck. It was all you." When he opened his mouth to protest, she argued, "Don't even try to deny it. You tricked that Shaw jerk into outing himself and his plan on live TV, no Intersect required. You tricked Alexei Volkoff, one of the CIA's most-feared enemies, into recording his password so we could take down his empire. Again, no Intersect. Just you, and there's not another agent on the planet who can come close to those accomplishments. So don't even give me that bullshit."

Chuck let out a sigh, but Sarah wasn't finished.

"You are who you are, Chuck," she told him gently. "But why isn't that enough for you? It is for me."

And all this talk about what he 'deserved' sent a pang through her heart. How did someone deserve another person, exactly? The idea was so preposterous and insulting on its face that she didn't even know how to attack it. So maybe neither of them deserved each other, but they were both there, both ready to give this their all.

He was sweet, he was smart, too smart to allow this irrational fear to overtake his brain. She wanted to tell him how lucky she was to have him, because her life before – with the superspies and the princes – was demeaning. All she was to them was a trophy, a notch on the bedpost. But here was a guy who knew her and loved her anyway. And in return, wasn't she teaching him what it was to believe in himself? To be the hero he was meant to be? The truth was that they were lucky to have each other.

"You don't get it, do you, Chuck?"

"Get what?"

"I know I don't have the same sense of our relationship now, but I can guarantee that I love you twice as much now than I ever did before. What can I do to get you to understand that?" She pursed her lips, and, voice less assured, said, "But maybe that's not the real problem here? Maybe it's that you're still deciding if you can love me."

Chuck immediately sat forward, every motion of his body protesting the charge. "I love you," he insisted. "You're wrong about that. I love you so much it hurts."

She bit her lip, inhaled deeply through her nose, and forced her gaze back to his. "And who do you love, Chuck? Me? Or the woman you remember marrying?"

Because they both knew those were two different people, and always would be. If he were still holding that ideal in his mind, she couldn't compete with that. But if he would give her a chance, they could have something great, again.

He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at them. But when he took his hands away, saw his wife standing there, half-fire, half-fear, for the first time in a month, he recognized her, as odd as it seemed. Not since they agreed to try this thing had he seen the pissed-off, fire-breathing Sarah he knew and loved like this, threatening to kick his ass, just like the old days. This wasn't the Stepford Sarah who'd been walking on eggshells around him for the past few days.

This really was her, not simply an act she was putting on for him. And the realization made his heart soar, put a stupid grin on his face.

"It's you, Sarah, standing right in front of me. It's always been you. So . . . are you calm enough that I can stand up and talk to you without getting my ass kicked?"

A matching grin on her face, she nodded, and the twinkle in her eyes changed from fear to hope.

"Maybe," she told him, a teasing note in her voice, "but if I hear the word 'deserve' one more time, I take it back."

Standing to face her, he said, "You know I loved you, and I know this is going to sound weird, but you're . . . you're open now, more affectionate, more playful. I like it." He paused. "That's not disrespectful to what we had before, is it?"

"No," she assured him quietly.

She had the sense that a major breakthrough had just occurred, that something fundamental had just changed between them.

"Come here," she requested with a little tip of her head, and she didn't have to ask twice.

His arms were around her in a second, holding her close. She threw her arms around his neck, dragged him down to her, closed her eyes and breathed him in.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "Sorry that I freaked out, sorry that I doubted you."

Threading her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, she answered, "Chuck, we beat the odds the first time, and we're gonna do it again this time." When he stiffened, she pulled away to slide a hand to his neck and look into his eyes. "I promise you, Chuck."

"And I trust you," he answered.

"Good," she nodded, pressing a short, soft kiss to his lips. "Then come on, let's go get ready for bed. We've had a long day."

x-x-x-x-x

As soon as Sarah was in the bedroom, she grabbed the wedding ring lying on her dresser and pushed it determinedly onto her finger. Her mom was right. She was done dancing around. She was Sarah Bartowski, and it was time to start acting like it.

She stared at her open closet with a huff. There were a number of sexy things hanging in there, things which were clearly designed to seduce her husband. Tonight, though, being seduced was not what he needed. He needed normal, a normal night with his wife. So she selected a plain yellow nightgown, the one she wore last night, the one Chuck said she usually wore.

As soon as she was in bed beside him, she lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling and forced herself to calm down a little. Once her heart rate was back to normal, she shifted against Chuck and into her favorite position. They had lots to talk about, lots to work through, but tonight's priority was to soak him in, to hold him until she couldn't figure out where she ended and he began.

But they still had a little ways to go to get things right between them, and she was in no mood to take chances.

Face buried in his t-shirt, she murmured, "You know talking's hard for me, so if I say something, will you hear me out?"

"Of course."

"I knew how I felt about you when I woke up this morning," she said quietly. "I can't explain it, but there are some things you just _know_ deep down, and that was one of them. And I know that I belong right here, beside you. So even . . ." She licked her lips, then pressed on, "So even if I never remember another thing, this is as plain as I can say it: I love you. I can't imagine my life without you. And I need you to know that."

When her mom was right, she was right. It was as if someone had flicked on a switch, shedding light on them, sucking the tension right out of the room. It felt absolutely wonderful, a weight lifting off her, a fire setting alight in her heart.

Chuck pressed a kiss to her hair. He knew exactly how hard that was, which is exactly why it meant so much to him.

"Thank you," he said softly. "I love you, too."

Snuggling deeper into him, she requested, "Tell me a story, Chuck."

"Um, okay," he said, smiling as he pulled her close. "Anything in particular you want to hear?"

Fortunately, she didn't have to hide her grin from him. He'd just stepped directly into her trap. "Tell me about our first time."

Chuck frowned thoughtfully. She knew of Daniel Shaw, having read the mission reports, but he didn't want to ruin such a nice moment. Finally, he said, "It was in Paris. You could see the Eiffel Tower from our room."

"You took me to Paris?"

"It was a mission, actually," he confessed, "our first mission together after I was made an agent."

"So I wasn't your handler anymore?"

"No. The day before the mission, you finally admitted how you felt. But then you got drugged, and there was a really long night when I started to worry that you were never going to wake up."

She poked him in the chest. "Stop being modest."

"What?"

"I read that report, Chuck. You saved my life that night."

His shoulders twitched in a modest shrug. "You've saved me every day for five years. 'Bout time I returned the favor, wasn't it?" He smiled. "And believe me, I was pretty well rewarded."

"All right," she conceded with a chuckle, "so who made the first move? I'll bet I did, didn't I?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Just a feeling," she shrugged. She had a feeling she was always the one making the first move, and maybe that was something that should change as well. "So how'd I do it?"

"You told me to shut up and kiss you," he told her with a soft laugh. "I've learned it's best to comply when you take that particular tone."

"Good policy," she nodded. One fingertip traced a circle on his chest. "So . . . how was it?"

"It's not like I remember the details," he laughed. "I was a little too caught up in whether I was dreaming or not. I was almost too afraid to touch you, almost like you'd disappear if I did."

"That doesn't seem to work too well."

"I said 'almost', didn't I?"

Sarah chuckled. "So, we'd been waiting a long time. Was it everything we wanted?"

He ran a hand lightly up and down her arm and let out his breath in a long, slow _whoosh_. "It was . . . amazing. That night was a great memory, no question about that. But every time since then has been even more incredible."

"I guess we've had a lot of practice, then?"

"Yeah, you can say that."

"I wish I could remember it."

"You will someday," he assured her.

"I know," she said, nodding against his chest, "but honestly, listening to you is pretty great, too."

"Yeah, it is." He dropped another kiss to her temple. "It is for me too. You know, I'm really sorry you don't have that memory."

Sarah lifted her head from his chest and twisted to drape herself over him. "You know the best thing about memories?" she whispered.

"What's that?"

"You can always make new ones." She gazed down at him, running a thumb along his temple.

He swallowed thickly, then said, "Are you sure about this? It's sort of a point of no return."

She dipped her head down to press her lips gently against his. There had been many hotter kisses in their past, but this one spoke of warmth and need and promises. It spoke of the future.

"I'm sure," she murmured against his mouth. In fact, she had never been more certain of anything in her life.

They didn't need smoky letters in the sky, or words shouted from rooftops. What they needed was each other, and whispers in quiet moments, smiles and laughter strung together so that happiness could always be found.

"We are married, after all," she said. "No real reason to wait any longer."

The question remained in her eyes. Yes, they've been through hell, they've been forced to face more than any other married couple had to go through, but they _were_ married. They _still_ loved each other. No, she could see no reason to wait.

He slid a palm to her cheek, drew her down for another lingering kiss. "No," he answered, "no reason at all."

Before she could say another word, he wound his arms around her back and flipped them over. She couldn't remember this happening before, but she knew that it had, many times. He was right when he said they'd learned about each other, that it got better each time. Every single move he made was new to her, yet ingrained in her at the same time. She knew what he was thinking, where his hands would go, what he wanted from her. Every kiss, every touch, was perfect. Chuck in control was exciting, comforting, nothing short of magical.

She also knew that whatever tension had existed between them for the past month was now history. They were Chuck and Sarah Bartowski, married, fiercely in love. Good memories, bad memories, lack of memories – it really no longer mattered. They were now back to making their own memories.

x-x-x-x-x


	6. The Devil in Disguise

_We don't own Chuck. Actually, we don't own much of anything. _

_If you enjoyed this or any of the stories on this site, please take a second and send the author a review. It only takes a second – and it really, really makes a difference. That's probably more important than ever now that the series has ended. If you want to keep the Chuck fandom alive and continue to read about these characters, you really need to think about rewarding the people whose hard work make that possible._

**The Devil in Disguise**

x-x-x-x-x

His mark sat at the bar, drowning in whiskey and three days' worth of stubble. Agent Eric Gold had been coming here every night for a while now, since things went south between him and an old object of infatuation. Or at least that's how the story went. And it was his job to know the stories. Agency gossip was a deep and swift river, and it was often their greatest asset in this ever-changing game.

He himself sat in a corner booth, twirling a martini between his long, slender fingers, observing silently. The company knew him as the Middleman, and this was his job. Do recon, find an agent down on his luck, make contact, and make the offer.

Gold lifted his hand in a request for another drink. It was approaching one o'clock in the morning, but he had carved out a hole for himself at the edge of the bar, looking for all the world like he never wanted to leave. He was the most dangerous kind of agent, the kind who had screwed up early on, found themselves on the lowest road to a mediocre career, and suddenly lost their last ounce of drive over a seemingly meaningless happening. But he'd seen it countless times. New generations making mistakes of their predecessors. As long as the cycle continued, they'd have a constant selection of pawns at their fingertips.

He sat down beside the mark as the bartender slid a new tumbler of whiskey his way. The bartender cocked his head in a question, but he merely shook his head. He watched the bartender walk to the other side of the bar, then turned to Gold.

"Long night?" he asked, his voice low and scratchy, eyeing the empty glasses littering the bar counter.

"Long life, more like it," the man replied.

Gold's tone was sullen, his posture slouched. He was at a previously unseen low, just as he suspected.

He cleared his throat. "And why is that? A capable agent like you?"

Gold squinted. "I don't think we've met before."

"We haven't, but I've seen you. I know of you." He left it at that. In this capacity, he had no name. Let the man wonder.

"Oh? And what is it you think you know about me?" Gold's slurred voice was starting to become a growl. It seemed the liquor did not make him more agreeable.

He leaned in close. "I know that your star has fallen, and it will not rise again, not where you are now. I know that a few years ago, you could have gotten a woman into your bed with just a smile, and now they don't spare you a glance. I know that you are not the man you once were, but you can be so again."

Gold swallowed thickly and stared into the depths of his glass for a solid three minutes. Finally, he whispered, "How?"

x-x-x-x-x

Sarah wasn't sure how long she had slept last night, although it couldn't have been that long. The sunlight streaming through the window blinds made clear the complete destruction that had taken place in this room over the past ten hours or so. The bed was a wreck, only a single sheet remaining to cover their nakedness. Lifting her head, she could see the bedclothes and the odd pillow strewn haphazardly around the room.

Funnily, Sarah wasn't in the least bit tired, at least not in the sleepy way. She could feel the pull of sore muscles, especially the ones she hadn't used all that often. There was something else beneath the familiar fatigue though, something fuzzy and stirring and strange. At first, she had no clue as to what it was, where it was coming from, but then it hit her, as brilliant and warm as the sunlight spilling in.

Happiness. Honest-to-goodness happiness, a feeling she had been searching for for nearly her entire life. How could she possibly have not remembered this? This filling contentment, this suffusing joy? The feeling was life-changing. If she weren't so happy, she would be in quite the mood to track down Quinn. It was good he was already dead, because the sonofabitch had gotten off far too easy. No one had the right to take away this feeling from anyone else.

But there was no room in her heart for that kind of hate, especially when she was snuggled up against the man who brought out this side of her, the man who had saved her in a very real sense.

"Chuck?" she said softly. "Are you awake?"

Without opening his eyes, without even expending the energy to fully open his mouth, he slurred, "Y'joking, 'ight? Need break."

Sarah felt a muffled giggle escape her throat. "Don't worry," she murmured, a wicked sparkle in her eye as she pressed a kiss to his temple. "You just look a little dehydrated to me, that's all. I'll go get you a glass of orange juice and you'll be good to go."

"You're the devil," he said, a smile touching his lips. He tightened his grip on her waist, but still didn't open his eyes. "I think I just figured it out. You came in the guise of the most beautiful woman in the world. 'Splains why can speak six hundred languages and get poor, uns'specting mortal men to do your bidding. I'm on to your plan, though."

"My plan, huh?"

"To get me to fall in love with you, exhaust me with continuous sex, and then, when I'm all weakened and defenseless, steal my soul."

"Oh, is that it?" she laughed, abandoning all effort to keep in the mirth. After all, it was one of those moments you remembered until the day you died, and she had no reason to hold back.

"Okay," he continued, nuzzling her neck, "maybe you're not actually the devil."

"Thank you for conced-"

"Maybe you still think you're on a mission to kill me and you've simply changed tactics. Oh, I know. You've decided that The Widow Bartowski has a nice ring to it."

As soon as Sarah could stop laughing, she lifted her head and slapped him playfully. "Would you quit your bellyaching?" she asked in faux annoyance. "I guess you can have your silly break." She leaned up close to his ear and whispered, "But I was under the impression that you found me attractive."

She could feel his smile against her neck as he protested, "I did find you attractive. Very attractive, the first handful of times. Now all I can see is the horns and pitchfork. Very scary. If I had any energy left, I'd be running right now."

She knew it was only a joke, but instead of laughing, she nestled closer to him and, more seriously, asked, "Do you have enough energy left to talk? We have some decisions to make, after all." And as long as they had a break, they may as well be productive with it.

He finally opened his eyes, rolling over to look into her eyes. "Of course. You don't have to ask me, ever."

If it didn't set her heart racing, she would love how easily he slipped into looking after her. She looped an arm around his neck and pulled him down to press a deep kiss to his lips. When she broke it, she was surprised to find she could barely catch her breath.

"As long as we're talking about future stuff," he said cautiously, "I want to start spending more time with Molly. I think it'd be good for her, to have a male influence in her life. Is that okay with you?"

Even if they were in the middle of a break, she wasn't prepared for that much overt sweetness this early in the morning. And she especially didn't know how to begin to tell him what she'd learned from Eric in Washington. That, however, was something that had to be dealt with before they could plan for any kind of future. She also knew she had to be careful how she told the story. The last thing she wanted was to spoil what progress they'd made, so she approached the problem in typical Sarah Walker-Bartowski fashion – head on.

"We have a problem," she said, barely registering the bewilderment that crossed his face.

"Really?" he asked, his face falling. "I thought you'd want me to spend time with Molly. Maybe we can –"

"Chuck," she interrupted, "no, that's not what I meant. I'd love that. It's just . . . There's something I've held off on telling you." She paused, twisting her lips. "Have we ever talked about an agent named Eric Gold?"

The name got Chuck's attention. A frown furrowing his brow, he moved away and asked warily, "Your ex before Bryce? Yeah, we've talked about him."

Of course that was the part he would remember. "Chuck, he's not an ex," she sighed in frustration. "It was a couple of dates, that's all."

Chuck was a smart guy. He knew every detail about her and how she felt. But if he knew everything of importance, why would he be at all concerned over a man that he knew she had zero feelings for and in fact thought was pathetic? She was on the point of rolling him over and showing him exactly how she felt when an epiphany slammed into her. When he constantly misinterpreted her intent, it was fear taking over his logic. Her mother had hinted at it yesterday, that he was still irrationally afraid of not being worthy of her. He constantly compared himself to men like Gold and, stunningly, thought he came up short in some way. She strongly suspected this wasn't a recent development and had nothing to do with her lost memories. But that only meant that she hadn't gotten him over it when she had the chance. She wondered if she'd even realized it the first time they were together, if she'd ever made it a priority to show him exactly how much he meant.

The real obstacle was that she'd never been around a man who was insecure before. Agents had confidence to a fault. Chuck was a man who wore his insecurities on his sleeve, who needed reassurance, and especially needed it from her. That's what her mom was trying to tell her about going outside her comfort zone. Simply saying those three words every once in a while wasn't enough. She could explain until she was blue in the face, but it was going to take more than words to fix this. She was always an action-oriented being, but this was going to take a precise mix of all the weapons in her arsenal – the words to assuage his doubt, the action to make it stick. She made a mental note to talk to someone for advice, to go to the person who knew him best. She didn't know Morgan very well, but maybe that was another thing that needed to change.

After being on the receiving end of his devotion and generosity and sweetness for a week, the thought of being able to do something for him buoyed her. After being so focused on herself for the past ten years, it felt beyond good to put someone first. Maybe that was what it felt like the first time. Maybe that was what he gave her.

"They were barely dates," she continued. "Just dancing. And it was eight years ago, Chuck. Besides, you surely already know this about me. When I'm on the dance floor, it really doesn't matter who I'm with. I'm pretty much in my own world."

"Come on," he shook his head, "he was attractive and confident. You know about the three date rule. For spies I'm thinking it's more like a three minute rule, especially if Carina is the model. You're telling me it never went beyond dancing?"

A bit too roughly perhaps, she pushed him down into the mattress and rolled to pin him to it. Maybe now was the time for his first lesson. "I know you have this image in your head of what spies are like," she told him firmly, "but we're not all like Carina. Yes, she was my best friend, and yes, she pushed me out on dates a lot, but that doesn't mean I always did what she expected. Do you understand?"

He nodded, but a hint of confusion still lingered in his eyes. "What don't you understand?"

"How do I know he was different from Bryce? And you're always going on about how Bryce was nothing special, but something must have made you choose him."

She frowned and readjusted herself so she could cup his cheek. "I wasn't one for casual relationships. I'm not ashamed of my past with Bryce because he was a decent guy, for the most part. He was my partner, Chuck. And he was _there_. He was there when I got in trouble, and I was there when he did. He was there when we were kicking butt and when the sky seemed like it was going to fall on to us." She shook her head. "Gold's not like that. He's small and he's petty and there are a thousand reasons I never let it go further."

"Okay," he sighed, not quite meeting her eyes.

She ran a thumb along his cheekbone. She hated how closed off he seemed to get when she brought up the past, as if it were something to shy away from. But she had no qualms talking about Bryce, especially not when he was the one who taught her to want more out of love, when that was the relationship that taught her to love with everything she's got.

"Don't do this to me, Chuck," she murmured, inclining her head to brush a kiss over his lips. "Don't close off on me."

He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. "All right, so, what about this guy?"

Well, it wasn't what she was hoping for, but it was a start. "I saw him in the hall at the offices," she told him. "He said he had some information about you. He wanted to tell me about it over a drink." Before he could object, or get the wrong impression, she quickly added, "It was in a bar where a lot of agents hang out, and I only stayed for five minutes."

He swallowed. "So what happened? What did he tell you?"

She hesitated. She could easily tell him just the basics, what Gold told her about the Intersect, and leave out everything that happened in his hotel room for his good. But that's not how she wanted to live, a life of half-truths.

"Listen, there's more to this than just the information. I want you to know everything that happened, but I also want you to not jump to conclusions. Can you do that?" After he nodded, she licked her lips and continued, "Despite all my efforts to reject him, he chose to take precisely the wrong impression. He showed up at my hotel room with a rose, white dinner jacket, and wine." She laid her palm over his chest, took comfort in the strong beat beneath it. "Remember we talked about me remembering that time with you?"

"That's why you remembered?"

She nodded. "But I didn't want to tell you something like that on the phone."

"He tried the Montgomery on you," Chuck said with a defeated sigh. She could tell by the heave of his chest that he was having trouble calming himself. "What happened?"

"Well, he'd been drinking, so of course he didn't listen when I told him I was married and wanted him to leave. So one thing led to another, and I kicked in him the groin and knocked him out. That was the end of it. Then I called you." She took a deep breath. "Chuck, look, I understand you get jealous. There's nothing wrong with that. But this is nothing to get jealous over. You can't know how much I was missing you. I had to force myself to wait to call until you'd be back from Morgan's."

Sarah could barely contain her surprise when Chuck started to laugh softly.

"You knocked him out?" he asked through a chuckle. "Roan is going to have to add a serious disclaimer to those instructions._ Warning: Do not try this on Sarah Walker. The results may be hazardous to your health_." He sobered, his smile fading. "I know I overreact –"

"Chuck –"

"No, I do. But you should tell me about stuff like this. I mean, that's what married couples do. Agreed?"

"Agreed," she smiled with a tip of her head. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but with everything going on, I didn't want to add to your anxiety."

"So what did Gold tell you?"

With a sigh, she settled back down, snuggling into him and letting him wrap an arm around her. Any potential crisis had been averted. Better than that, she was sure they'd made progress on his inadequacy issues. On to the more important, and scarier, task at hand. She claimed his hand, idly playing with his fingers, and said, "He told me the CIA is resuming the Intersect Project."

He bristled. "What? They promised to shut it down. That was part of our agreement."

"Well," she shrugged, "the CIA likes to promise things all the time and then goes back on their word when it's convenient. At this point, it's still unofficial, probably not even sanctioned. But it's only a matter of time. The technology is too powerful for them to not want to exploit it, especially after seeing what you accomplished."

Rubbing his chin, he mused, "We destroyed the Intersect Room. They're going to have to rebuild the cube from scratch. Even with all of Dad's plans, that'll take them months, and it'd cost them a mint. Are you sure they'd go to that expense?"

"I'm sure," she confirmed with a nod. "I'm afraid the only question is when they'll succumb to the temptation, not if."

"Okay, so what's this got to do with us?"

Sarah would have had to bite back a laugh, if she couldn't already see the dangers spread before them like a picture. "They'll want you, Chuck. You know that. Gold said if I could stay close to you and deliver you at the right time, I could use you to bargain with them."

"All right, so, we'll just tell them 'no' and that'll be the end of it."

She let a small, sad smile come to her lips, because Chuck didn't even fear that she might want to turn him over for leverage, and because she was starting to get pretty damn good at knowing what made Chuck Bartowski tick. Maybe sex with her husband was just the thing she needed. Maybe after tonight they'd be even more attuned to each other.

Something else that was abundantly clear to Sarah was that her husband was an absolute genius. Not only was he a full CIA agent in his own right, but he had the Intersect 2.0 in his brain. When he wanted to, he was the most powerful person in the world. His one weakness, though, his fatal flaw, was that he honestly believed that all people were basically good at heart, that they were as nice and as honest as he was.

And that's what Beckman had been trying to tell her all along, wasn't it? That Chuck needed, maybe not a handler, but certainly someone to look out for him. She could never afford to think like that, and she cared for him on top of it, which made her the ideal candidate. Even if he no longer needed a physical bodyguard to guard him from bad guys, she'd be there to protect his blind spot. She'd be there to protect him emotionally in a world he didn't begin to fathom, a world where the emotions that made him such a wonderful person were too often a liability, where the logic he so effortlessly and brilliantly utilized didn't always apply. And he trusted her enough to let her be that person.

Ironically, it was exactly the same role he'd played for her in his world, for exactly the same reason. That's what made them such a great team, and not just in the spy sense. Separately, they both had serious flaws. But together? Together, they were unstoppable.

"You can't just say 'no' to the CIA, Chuck," she said gently, pushing away thoughts of a day, so long ago now, when she'd run into the woods to escape her life and had found a new one instead. "They'll always find a way to make you say 'yes.'" To hammer her point home, she brought up something she'd much rather forget. "Remember a month ago when one of those ruthless CIA agents wanted the real Intersect glasses from you? What'd she do?"

"I get it, you threatened Ellie," he sighed. He paused, running his thumb along the curve of her hip. "So what do we do?"

Closing her eyes, she pressed her face into his chest. That was the question she was dreading, because she really didn't know. She was supposed to be good at this, and yet she had no clue how to proceed, and she was finding it exceedingly hard to concentrate with the shivers Chuck was sending up her spine. She bit her lip. "We don't have to decide anything today. Whatever we do, it has to be well thought out. If we're going to fight against the CIA, we're going to need a plan."

He pulled her a bit tighter, his nose buried in her hair. After a deep sigh, he finally asked, "Did you tell Gold that I currently have the Intersect?"

"Of course not."

"Beckman said she wouldn't report it. If no one knows . . ."

He let it hang in the air, an unspoken hope.

Sarah pulled her head from his chest, placed a hand on his chin to get him to look at her. "Chuck," she said softly, "whatever we do, we're doing it together. I want you to promise me right now that you're not going to try to go off and do something crazy on your own."

Chuck said nothing, and that said everything.

"What?" she murmured, leaning forward to press her lips against his. "You think you can know every single detail about what makes me tick, and I wouldn't try to learn those same things about you? You'd want to protect me and deal with this yourself. But no matter how brave that is, Chuck, it's also very stupid." She kissed him again, deeper this time. "So promise me."

"Sarah . . ."

"No, promise me, Chuck," she demanded, propping herself up on an elbow to look down at him. "We're a team, in every sense of the word. I know if you promise me, I can trust you to keep your word. And I'll promise you in return."

He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingertips ghosting against her cheek. "I promise," he whispered. "We'll do this together."

"Thank you," she breathed out, feeling all the anger and worry rush out of her as she dropped to rest her forehead against his.

The morning had started off so wonderfully, and she didn't want to let that mood slip away. She wasn't going to let this issue, or a guy barely worth a thought, ruin the day. There were better things to talk about, better things to occupy her mind. He lifted a hand to the back of her neck, his thumb behind her ear, and she could feel the now-familiar and comforting pressure of his wedding ring against her skin. An image flashed in her mind, of a photo of a house, with a red door, and a sharpied drawing of a man, and a woman, with a baby in her arms. It hit her with force, not because of how suddenly the memory came, but because this was something she never expected and yet she felt absolutely ready for it.

After a moment, she ventured, "Have we ever talked about starting a family?"

"Don't worry," he said quietly, jumping to the wrong conclusion, as usual. "I'd never try and hold you to any decisions we made before the accident."

She lifted her head to find him looking up at her and let her breath out in a huff. "Will you shut up for a minute and stop reading into things?"

He frowned, a twinkle lighting up his eye. "Can I say I'm sorry?"

"Hush," she giggled, pressing a finger to his lips.

"How'm I s'posed to answer your question?" he grumbled.

"Are you going to be quiet for a minute?" she asked with a smile and a tilt of her head. He nodded. "Good. We need to be honest with each other, Chuck. Skirting around the truth is not going to help me, and it's not going to help us make good decisions. So I'm going to tell you what I want, and you need to tell me what you want. If they're different, well, we'll find a way to compromise. Got it?"

"Mm-hmm."

"So I asked you that question for a reason. I'd appreciate an honest answer." Slowly, she withdrew her finger.

A smile tugging at his lips, he said, "We did talk about it, a lot actually. We even thought you were pregnant at one point, but it turned out to be negative."

Sarah took a deep breath. "And is that what you want?" She was half-afraid to hear the answer, because what if he said 'no'? It wasn't as if they had tried last night.

"You know I do," he answered, expelling the words in a rush, "always have." More haltingly, he added, "Family means a lot to me. It's more important to me than anything."

"I'm starting to figure that out."

"But we're in a different place right now, and I absolutely don't want to put any pressure on you. As far as I'm concerned, we can shelve that particular issue for a while. Although, lately, I have to admit, you've been the greater advocate for family expansion."

"Really? I never saw myself as a mom."

He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. "No, you thought it'd never be possible. There's a difference."

Smiling, she lay back down and rested her chin on his chest. "I want it," she whispered. "I mean, maybe not immediately. But the white house with the red door, the kids, the big yellow dog, I want all of it. Chuck, I've never –"

His head came up. "Wait, what did you say?"

"I want kids?"

"No, about the red door. How did you know that?"

That house had been her dream house since the days when she had to learn how to rely on cell phone conversations and whispered wishes in the night to stay in touch with her mom, but there was something different about this memory, too. It was touched by what they had. It didn't exist in the vacuum of her pre-Bartowski life. "I just have this image in my head, of that house, like it's meant for us." She smiled into his chest. "And it's meant to be filled with little Bartowkis running around with curly hair and lightsabers."

"You mean Walker-Bartowskis, don't you?" he asked with a smile, settling his head back onto the pillow.

She picked her head up. "Wait, what?"

He chuckled. "You were the great Agent Walker. When we started Carmichael Industries, we thought it'd be good to have that name recognition. So we compromised. You were Agent Walker professionally, and Sarah Walker-Bartowski personally."

"Hmm. Did that bother you? That I only hyphenated?"

"No," he said a little too quickly, with a hasty shake of his head. Lifting his shoulder in a shrug, he explained, "I mean, maybe a little. Like you couldn't completely leave your old life behind."

"Like I always leaving backdoors open in case I ever wanted a way out?"

"Maybe like that, yeah."

She stretched up to lean directly over him, then ran a hand through his hair. "I know I don't have a basis for this, so you can take this on trust, but it wasn't like that."

Maybe she couldn't remember all the details, but she couldn't imagine being like that with Chuck. The only reason she could fathom was that she wasn't a believer in love, and she simply didn't know how things were done, how certain things would be taken certain ways. And maybe she didn't want to give up that connection to her old life, not because she'd want a way out eventually, but because who she had been brought her to where she got to with Chuck. Her husband.

"No?"

"No," she assured him, pressing a brief kiss to his lips.

"I'm sorry then. I always seem to read into things the wrong way, don't I?"

"You do," she confirmed with a soft laugh. "But explain something to me. For being the nicest guy in the world, you seem to apologize a lot. What's with that?" Her eyes sparkling mischievously, she added, "If you want to be sorry about something, try apologizing for needing a break at the worst possible time. Babies don't make themselves, you know."

Chuck's laughter joined hers. "About that," he said, eyebrows waggling, "I may have recovered enough to accommodate you, my lady. I must say, your offer to get me a glass of orange juice did wonders."

"You're thirsty? I really will get you some."

"Some orange juice would be great," he replied with his classic grin, "but if I'm being totally honest, the break ended when I pictured you going to get it naked."

Laughing, she took a pillow in her fist and hit him playfully in the side of the head with it.

"Hey, hey, hey!" he shouted playfully. "You told me to be honest!"

"I did," she conceded, pinning his hands above his head and smiling down at him wickedly. "And in that case, that kind of honesty should be rewarded."

x-x-x-x-x


	7. Best Friends

_We don't own Chuck. Actually, we don't own much of anything. _

_If you enjoyed this or any of the stories on this site, please take a second and send the author a review. It only takes a second – and it really, really makes a difference. That's probably more important than ever now that the series has ended. If you want to keep the Chuck fandom alive and continue to read about these characters, you really need to think about rewarding the people whose hard work make that possible._

_Regarding all the Bryce chatter, all we can say is: you're reading too much into it. Every past relationship, good or bad or in between, contributes to a current one, and nothing in the Bryce passages undermines Sarah's love for Chuck. If you think that, you're probably reading the wrong story.  
_

**Best Friends**

x-x-x-x-x

"Okay," Sarah grumbled from the passenger's seat, "you said if I let you get dressed, you'd buy me a present. I did my part, so where's this present? You know how much I hate surprises."

"I didn't say I'd _buy_ you a present," Chuck protested with a laugh. "I said I'd _show_ you one. This," he said with a significant look, "is already ours. In fact, it's the last asset left over from Carmichael Industries. Everything else has been sold."

"Did that work out well?" Sarah asked, genuinely interested.

"Perfectly," he responded, voice heavy with sarcasm. "We only lost a quarter of a billion dollars in one year."

"So how much do you have left?" she asked, immediately wincing at the way it came out. She wasn't some gold digger after his money. She couldn't care less how much he had in his bank account – ten bucks or ten million. "That's not what I meant. I was just making conversation."

But if Sarah was concerned, she needn't have been. Maybe Chuck was learning to not be so sensitive.

"I know," he said quickly. A soft smile on his lips, he added, "I know you, remember? You've had lots of opportunities to be with men a lot richer than I am. Besides, I barely have two dimes to rub together. Chuck and Sarah Bartowski, though, have a little over four hundred million." Off Sarah's look, he took a breath and explained, "The Volkoff fortune was a wedding present, and that means it belongs to both of us. Miraculously, we turned a profit on the Buy More sale, which is where the bulk of it comes from. The CIA froze about a hundred million that our lawyers are fighting to get released. But the most exciting thing about this is what I'm taking you to see."

"Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"A brand new Gulf Stream," he said, grinning. "Worth about thirty-six million. And you get to fly it."

Sarah was silent, staggered by the amounts. After the discovery of his gift of Molly's trust fund, she'd realized there must have been money somewhere, but this was unbelievable. "We have a private jet?" was all she could ask.

Chuck laughed. "It's your baby. Morgan spilled some grape soda in the cabin once, and I thought you were going to draw and quarter him. You would have until Casey pointed out that bloodstains were even worse than grape soda stains."

The thing was brand-spanking new, only had 50 hours on her. And that was the problem with trying to sell it. It was so new that nobody would pay what it was worth. Anyone wanting to spend that much money would just go right ahead and buy a new one. But Sarah loved it, and maybe now she would have a chance to fly it more.

"You had to get recertified before the insurance company would let you fly it," he continued. "And I messed up. I let you fly commercial to D.C. when you could have flown your own jet. I'm sorry about that."

"Will you stop with the sorry stuff?" she requested gently. "Does the money we lost include the five million you gave my mom?"

"I guess so," he shrugged. "I was going to tell you about it. Normally, I would never spend that kind of money without talking to you about it first. I just . . ."

"Didn't know where I was. It's okay, Chuck. I understand."

Neither of them mentioned that 'normal' was a concept far too foreign right now.

"Yeah," he nodded, "but I am sorry you had to find out that way."

She shook her head. "'Sorry' again? Charles Irving Bartowski, what am I going to do with you?"

He only grinned and asked, "One 'sorry' too many? Okay, I'll stop. I really am sorry."

That got them both laughing out loud. "Oh, my God," she said when she could catch a breath. "You're killing me here."

x-x-x-x-x

The private jet was nothing short of amazing. Sarah felt like a schoolgirl presented with her first bicycle, only that joy was magnified by about a million. She still remembered the bikes her dad used to give her for their broken arm scam, and she understood how much better it was to receive a true gift, from someone who truly cared about you.

One of the first things she did was go to the cabin where Morgan had reportedly treated her baby with such little respect and spilled grape soda on her. Thankfully, there was no sign of any stain, which meant she wouldn't be forced to gut him like a fish. Yet.

Despite their ridiculous wealth, it seemed like an obscene waste of fuel to just fly around, so Chuck suggested that they fly to San Francisco for an early brunch. Having attended Stanford, he knew the area fairly well, and there was this restaurant on Fisherman's Wharf he was dying to show her.

Chuck was perfect in the plane, sitting in the co-pilot's seat without saying a single word to break her out of the zone. He simply looked out the window with a relaxed smile and allowed her the space to enjoy one of her favorite things. He didn't even complain on the way back when she flew out over the ocean, outside of controlled airspace, and put the jet through its paces a little, although he did noticeably tighten up his seatbelt on one of the verticals. And his face _was_ starting to look a little white as he gripped the armrest. But still he didn't say a single word. It was simply today's example of what Sarah already knew – he was the sweetest guy in the world and he loved to watch her have fun.

And she _was_ having fun. But beneath the pure joy of having this beautiful machine under her control, something else struck her. Even though he wasn't saying a word, this wouldn't have been nearly as much fun without him sitting next to her. And just like that, the third epiphany of the morning hit her. This time it was more about herself. All this time, she'd been substituting fast cars, dangerous missions, and adventurous hobbies for real, honest-to-God relationships with real people. Maybe the cars and the planes couldn't love her back, but they also couldn't betray her.

Sneaking a glance to her right, she realized something else. This man would never betray her. He had proved that convincingly over and over. So she reached over and playfully placed her hand over his. "You wanna drive for a while?" she asked with a grin, then laughed out loud at the horror on his face.

As soon as they were back home, Chuck reintroduced her to the Lotus. She wasn't one to be rendered speechless, but he seemed to have that effect on her. A thirty-six-million-dollar jet and a two-hundred-grand sports car in the same day? It was too much. This being rich thing definitely had its advantages. Of course, he was quick to point out that she'd obtained the Lotus from the CIA on her own before they were married. But since she didn't remember a thing about it, it was all new to her.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Chuck asked, leaning on the open door and eyeing her only a little apprehensively.

"That's okay," she replied, beaming, as she pushed the clutch on her second new toy today and aggressively revved the high-performance engine. "You're still looking a little green from the jet. Why don't you go inside and take a nap?" When he balked, she winked and added, "Trust me, you might need the rest later."

"You sure?" he chuckled.

"Yeah. I've got some errands to run. How 'bout I bring something home for dinner?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

He gave the sports car a good pat and watched it roar out of sight. It felt good to see her enjoying herself so much, especially since it didn't happen that often. And, actually, a nap didn't sound half-bad. He didn't get that much sleep last night, and judging from the gleam in her eyes, the prospect for sleep tonight wasn't looking all that rosy.

But he wasn't complaining. Maybe, just maybe, this was going to work out. A pensive smile on his face, he waved goodbye to the two specks of tail lights disappearing into the distance, knowing full well she could no longer see him.

"Have fun, Sarah."

x-x-x-x-x

Morgan looked around the Buy More wistfully. There was nothing wrong with the store. In fact, it had become quite the well-oiled machine, not an item out of place. And now that Jeff and Lester had left for Germany, the store was certainly a lot quieter. And business was up. The new owners were very pleased.

That was the problem. It wasn't the Buy More he knew and loved anymore. Sure, customers were happy, and there were no more weird antics from employees, but it was so quiet. He found himself missing the old excitement and unpredictability. He was no longer a spy, though, and, like it or not, he had to accept that being the manager of a Buy More was his role now. He had adult obligations, bills to pay, a beautiful girlfriend who was clearly on the fast path to becoming a fiancée and then a wife. But, excitement or not, it was a good life. He had no room to complain. And he was actually pretty good at it.

Still, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling. It was too quiet, so quiet. So he retreated to the privacy of his office. At least there he could be quiet in peace.

"Have a seat."

Morgan had just closed the door when he felt his chair slam into the back of his legs. He was now sitting down whether that had been his plan or no. A figure moved out of the shadows and into the middle of the room.

"Sarah," he sighed in relief. "You scared me half to death. Why can't you ever say 'hi' like a normal person?"

"I'm not sure. I've never tried that," Sarah replied with a smile that she hoped looked appropriately friendly. "But I'm sorry for scaring you."

"So . . ." Morgan began, steepling his fingers and forcing his voice into something resembling normalcy, "Chuck tells me there might be some hope that you're gonna be sticking around. That, uh, that true? 'Cause Chuck's pretty frantic about that. We all are, really."

Sarah looked at this almost complete stranger and forced herself to take a deep breath and relax. It was odd. She didn't remember a single thing about him, yet he was treating her as a best friend. More than that – family.

"I know he's frantic," she said quietly. "Or he was, at least. He knows I'm not going anywhere. That's why I'm here, actually. Well, the main reason. First, I wanted to apologize for pointing my gun at your head."

Morgan's face broke into the grin that Sarah had already come to know, and love, if truth be told. "Good," he said with an enthusiastic nod. "I was afraid that you might still be pissed about the grape soda thing. He kissed you, didn't he? Where'd he do it? I knew that would work! How much do you remember?"

The first thing Sarah was quickly learning about Morgan Grimes was that it was nearly impossible to be tense or irritable or in a bad mood around him. His easy, sometimes silly manner helped her to relax, which would make this go infinitely more smoothly.

"He did kiss me," she chuckled. A teasing glint in her eye, she said, "Where? Mostly on the lips, but pretty much all over. I think that's as specific as you'd want me to get."

"Very funny," he replied, his grin in no danger of fading. "I meant where were you when he kissed you? On the beach?"

"I know what you meant," she assured him with a soft laugh. More soberly, she explained, "I hate to burst the bubble on your magic kiss theory, but I'm afraid that the memories are coming back very slowly. That's actually why I'm here."

"Okay, sure. What can I do? How can I help?"

If she hadn't already warmed up to Morgan by now, his eagerness to help his best friend would melt her heart. One of her talents was reading people, and she could see in his eyes how much he loved Chuck, how much he loved her, too.

"I'm not sure how to ask."

"Sarah, it's me. You can ask me anything."

Nibbling at her bottom lip, she looked straight into Morgan's eyes for the confirmation she was seeking. Finally, softly, she asked, "Why is Chuck so insecure with me?"

"Are you kidding me?" Morgan asked with a chuckle. "The real question is: why would he be at all secure with you? There are a dozen reasons why he shouldn't, besides the obvious."

Her brow furrowed. If she didn't know what he meant, either it must not be that obvious or it was a memory she could no longer access. Quickly, she ran through a mental list of the things she'd read in Chuck's file that could've cost him his confidence. His parents' desertions. His expulsion from Stanford. The betrayal of a woman he knew who turned out to be a Fulcrum agent. Somehow, though, she knew that wasn't what he was referring to. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on, Sarah. You're way out of his league, and everybody knows it. He's not even your type."

There it was again, the implication that, if they'd met under normal circumstances, or as close to normal as a spy could get, she'd never have given him a second glance, and hearing Morgan say it with such sureness rankled her. Frustration bubbling up, she shot out, "Why does everyone always say that?"

After nearly five years of friendship, Morgan had seen this side of Sarah before. He knew that the way she tightened her lips and narrowed her eyes meant she was about to explode, and he also knew that it would be best to get out of the way before that happened. But he'd made a promise to himself to help see two of his best friends through this, and that's what he was going to do, the rage of Sarah Walker-Bartowski be damned.

He wheeled his chair over to the window and pulled up the blinds so they had a clear view of the Nerd Herd desk, where a gaggle of scrawny, pathetic nerds stood. "You see those guys out there? How many of them do you think have blonde, leggy, drop-dead gorgeous, superspy girlfriends?"

"Morgan . . ."

"Okay, so how many do you think have a girlfriend at all?"

She had to admit he had a point. Ignoring the implied compliment, she insisted weakly, "I'm not out of Chuck's league."

Morgan let the blind fall back into place, stood up, and, hands in his pockets, advanced toward her. "No? If you're not out of his league, then maybe you can round up some of your single spy friends and fix those guys up." When Sarah's angry, flustered gaze flickered to his, he added a bit more gently, "He's come a long ways, Sarah. If you think he's insecure now . . . Well, I could name at least a dozen situations where he acted worse."

"Fine. Give me one."

"Okay. When you dated Shaw. You think that was easy for Chuck to sit back and watch?"

A protest that Chuck was completely different than the employees out on the floor died on her lips when she realized what he'd said. "Wait. I dated Daniel Shaw? The traitor? How did that happen?"

With a shrug, Morgan sat down again. "Chuck suggested it, actually. Neither of you knew he'd betray you, of course."

"But why would he do that?"

"You two were in this awful place, always sniping at each other. It was like one more argument would destroy the whole operation. So the two of you agreed it'd be best if you just gave it up and tried to date other people. I guess you figured the alternative was you'd just end up hating each other. It was . . . man, it was a miserable time for anyone who was forced to be around you two."

"Chuck dated someone, too?"

Morgan's eyes grew distant for a few seconds. Then, coming back to the present, he said, very quietly, "Her name was Hannah."

Morgan swallowed thickly. He still hated thinking of that time, not only because of the misery Chuck and Sarah were putting everyone through, but also because he still couldn't forget the way Chuck had steamrolled his desires by going after Hannah for himself. And what had come of it? _Everyone_ had been wretched.

He gave his head a quick shake to clear it of the poisonous thoughts and added, "Don't worry. It only lasted a couple of weeks."

Sarah took a deep breath, hating to ask but needing to anyway. "Was she pretty?"

He nodded. "Yeah, she was," he said, half-ashamed of the break in his voice. "And smart and really, really sweet. And the truth is he wasn't fair to her."

Sarah regarded him silently for a moment, his head bowed slightly, his gaze averted. There was something hidden that he wasn't ready to let go, but she didn't think it was Chuck's secret he was keeping.

Before she could offer a small word of comfort, his head popped up and he said, "You know what? No, actually, neither of you were fair to anyone for a long time. The two of you were childish and immature and you hurt a lot of people in the whole process of you dancing around each other for almost three years, but, Sarah, don't you get it? All those mistakes you guys made? It's part of who you are."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he sighed, "that lots of people would have given up way before you two did. But that's what you guys do – you fight for each other."

"But Chuck getting a pretty, new girlfriend and me dating a traitor? That seems more like giving up on each other to me."

"That's because you don't know the whole story. And Shaw wasn't a traitor at first. He was in charge of your team. That's what got to Chuck the most."

Sarah was quiet, but he could tell from the anxious look in her eyes that either she was going to hear the entire story very quickly or he would pay for it.

"This guy, he was exactly your type," Morgan explained, "good-looking, macho, confident, great head of hair. It was hard for Chuck to see that."

"And what about me?"

"What?"

"Maybe it was hard for me, too, to see Chuck going around with this pretty, sweet girl – a civilian – whom everyone seemed to think was better suited for him than I was."

His expression softened. Quietly, he replied, "Of course. No one ever said it wasn't."

When their gazes met, Sarah suddenly realized how strange this meeting was for him, explaining her history, especially the parts that maybe he'd rather not have mentioned. But she also saw that he was being intentionally sharp with her and immediately loved him for it, because his loyalty to Chuck was shining through and because he was including her in that small handful of friendships he held tight and never let go of.

She quickly flashed back to her talk with Ellie. Was she right? Were they really once best friends like that? Would Ellie have ever stuck up for her like this? It seemed impossible. Nice, but impossible. A bitter wave of remorse washed over her for the way she'd treated Ellie last month.

So far, Morgan had confirmed a lot of what she'd been suspecting. She knew what he meant by her type. She couldn't remember a thing about Daniel Shaw other than what she read in Beckman's office – that he tried to kill them and became the main mole for The Ring. But she didn't have to. She knew the type perfectly. Daniel Shaw, Bryce Larkin, Eric Gold, they were basically all the same – all spy, all the time. She hated it, but she could see how a guy like Chuck could be intimidated by a guy like that. Worse, she could see how her old self would have grabbed onto a relationship with one of them out of mere desperation.

She cleared her throat. "So, uh, just how serious did I get with Shaw?" she asked, barely meeting Morgan's gaze for fear of the answer.

"Not very serious at all," he responded with a small smile that eased her dread. "Anyone who knew you at all could see you were with him only because you couldn't be with Chuck. And Shaw knew it, too. That's why it was so easy for him to draw you out when . . ." He broke off suddenly, dropping his gaze to his shoes.

"When he tried to kill me, you mean. It's okay, Morgan." She'd read the report, knew the general story if not all the details. He certainly didn't have to start dancing around her now. "I only know what's in the report, though. Why don't you tell me the real story?"

After a short hesitation, he said, "You and Shaw were about to be transferred to Washington. Chuck was promoted to agent. It was like everything was falling into place, but all the wrong places. He knew if you went back to DC, that'd be it. He'd lose you forever. But you were running. And the only thing left to a man at that point is to go all in." He paused significantly, raising his eyes to meet hers. "He told you he loved you, and asked you to stay."

The revelation hung between them, so heavy Sarah felt her blood was turning to lead.

Morgan could remember it vividly – the resignation on Chuck's face, the smell of whiskey in the air, the pinch of the video game wires against his skin. It was the lowest of the low for his best friend, and he'd seen Chuck in some pretty low situations. But nothing compared to the agony of thinking the woman you loved was running off with another man.

"He tasted like mint ice cream," said Sarah suddenly, the memory dropping down on her swiftly, so strong she could taste it now.

Morgan's head came up. "What'd you say?"

"Mint," she repeated. "Mint and whiskey. And he was sitting on the floor in his underwear, with one of those stupid guitar controllers." She chuckled softly, half-amazed at being able to recollect, half-amused at the mental image. Her smile faded as she continued, "Chuck has beautiful eyes, but I've never seen them so sad."

It had been a now-or-never moment.

_Do you love me?_ he'd asked.

And she'd made him wait an eternity.

_Yes_. A simple syllable, yet the hardest word she'd ever said.

"You remember that night?" Morgan asked.

All Sarah could do was nod.

"Good. That's good," he murmured. "Do you remember what happened next?" When she shook her head, he elaborated, "Beckman assigned you and Shaw to go to Paris. It broke Chuck's heart when you agreed to go."

"Come on, it was an assignment," she protested.

"Look, Sarah, I'm telling you what Chuck went through, okay? From his point of view, you kissed him one night, and the very next day agreed to go to Paris – a place that was on his bucket list, by the way – with your ex-boyfriend. You can't argue with that."

"Okay, fine."

"And I admit that I wasn't your biggest fan around this time." Seeing the rage bubbling up again, he said quickly, fighting a smile, "But listen to me, Sarah, you stepped up big time. You kissed him and told him as soon as you got back, there'd be nothing left to stand in the way between you two."

Softly, she ventured, "But Shaw was going to kill me in Paris."

"Well, we're a smart group of spies, you know. Chuck and Casey took off to Paris just as soon as we figured it out."

"Okay, but Chuck _saved_ me, Morgan," she insisted, willing him to understand just how much that meant to her. Spies don't get saved every day. Because they don't need it, because they don't allow it, because no one cares for them that much. "We've been together since then, right? So why is he still so insecure around me? What have I done to make him feel that way?"

And if he suggested one more time that he wasn't her type or that she was out of his league, he'd be dangerously close to getting punched.

"Look at it from his point of view, Sarah. The only reason you two met was because of a freak circumstance that downloaded a computer into his head. You never would have given him a second glance if you'd just met on the street. For a long time, he was convinced that the only thing he had going for him with you was that he was the Intersect."

Her first instinct was to protest that as stupid, but she bit it back, because he was right. She wasn't looking at it from his perspective. Instead, forcing calmness into her voice, she asked, "Why would he think that?"

Morgan chuckled. "You're not exactly one to shout your love to the world, you know."

"Chuck knows how I feel."

"Maybe he does. Now. But it took him an awful long time to figure it out, and it shouldn't have to be that way."

"So, what did I do wrong?"

"No," he shook his head, "it's not that you did things wrong. It's that Chuck's a word guy, and you're all about action, and sometimes those don't mix well. And sometimes, even, I think you're so scared that you don't even realize how other people could take things."

She let that truth sink in, then turned it around and looked through it, tried to see herself how Chuck saw her. Their instincts were completely opposite – where he would go right, she would go left. Maybe the solution was that they both needed to adjust in order to find middle ground.

"Tell me, Morgan."

"It took you a long time to tell him you loved him. You never talked about your family or your past. You lived together for over six months before you unpacked. You know how hard it is to tell someone you love them. But do you understand how hard it is to say it and not hear it back? Especially from someone who you already think you don't deserve?"

"Of course I told him," she huffed.

He shook his head again. "No. He asked you and you said 'Yes.' And maybe you thought everything you did showed him, but you rarely said it. But there's a huge difference between those things and actually saying the words. And think about how he felt when he would say it to you, and then he had to get dressed every morning and see your half of the closet still empty."

No one could ever accuse her of being emotionally together. She couldn't pinpoint exactly why, but it was probably a mash of everything in her childhood that made her terrified of intimacy.

"That stuff I did had nothing to do with him. He should've known that."

"But how was he supposed to, Sarah, when you guys never _talked_ about anything?" He sighed in frustration, because if there was one rut that Chuck and Sarah had fallen into, it was one of poor communication. But he had to admit that not all of it was Sarah's fault. In fact, a big chunk could be attributed to Chuck's constant need to placate or protect Sarah, or so he thought, by never telling her what was wrong and then turning to him or Ellie for help instead.

"And, of course, it's my fault we never talked about anything important."

"No, Sarah, I didn't mean it like that." He eyed her warily as she fumed.

Sarah took a deep breath to keep the anger from exploding against Morgan. He wasn't the one she was angry at. Every intimate feeling or thought was drilled out of her head, out of her heart, in training. Don't get attached. Don't put down roots. It took a long time to undo that sort of thinking. Chuck should've known that.

Gently, Morgan explained, "I know he can be an idiot sometimes, but in his mind, he never wanted to pressure you. He thought putting on a brave face was the way to get through to you."

"Then maybe he doesn't know me very well either," she snapped.

Morgan only smiled.

It annoyed her. "What?" she barked.

"Missteps happen in a relationship, Sarah. If you didn't make mistakes, you'd never grow, either as a person or as a couple. Tell me, do you remember anything about Thailand?"

She shook her head. "No. Was it a mission? I don't remember reading about it in the reports."

"Not officially," he confessed with a light chuckle. "If you ever read it in a mission report, it'll be from prison."

Sarah looked at him, knowing an explanation was coming.

Ticking the items off on his fingers, he said, "You broke into the Thai Embassy, kidnapped one of their officials, brought him back to Castle, and interrogated him without cameras, without letting anyone see the interrogation, and, I'm pretty sure, without following the guidelines laid down by the Geneva Convention. And then you flew to Thailand and fought your way through a ring of criminals, all to get one tiny tidbit of information. So, no, it wasn't exactly a sanctioned mission."

Her brow furrowed. That sounded like something she would done in her earlier, wilder days, but not like how she acted once she'd settled down onto Team Bartowski. "But why'd I do it?"

"To save Chuck."

She swallowed thickly and dropped her eyes. Of course. No spy would go to such great lengths for a mere mission.

"Sarah," said Morgan kindly, "no one who saw you during that time could doubt you loved him." He smiled. "In Thailand, they called you –"

"The Giant Blonde She-Male," she finished unexpectedly. She shook her head incredulously. She still wasn't sure if it was a compliment or not.

They both laughed softly. Morgan remembered that time as more than just the time this woman saved his best friend's life for what was maybe the hundredth, but possibly most important, time. It was also locked in his mind as the time when he and Sarah really became close friends.

"Sarah, I was there when you rescued him. You brought him back to you, told him you wanted to marry him. And he was finally convinced that he was worth more than just being the Intersect."

At any other time, Sarah would have bristled at the idea that she only loved Chuck because he was the Intersect. It was a preposterous notion, especially since that ridiculous computer made him such a big target. But now, here was proof – not just for Chuck, but for both of them now – of how much she loved him.

"Surely that was the end of his doubts," she ventured, almost pleading, "wasn't it?"

"Well," he smiled, "there was the prenup you asked him to sign."

Even without remembering it, she could guess at what it pertained to – the money she had put aside to bail out dad the next time that he invariably got into trouble. That made sense to her, just a precaution, but, trying to look at it from Chuck's perspective, she could see how he could misinterpret that, like she was waiting for the marriage to fail.

"Things got a little better after you got married," he said. "But I think he was upset by the fact that you only hyphenated your name and you still used 'Walker' in the business. And then there was that time you ditched him in Hungary to go off after your old handler." He paused. "You apologized for that, though."

"Which one? The last name or the Hungary episode?"

Chuckling, Morgan answered, "Hungary. In fact, Chuck was just starting to get comfortable with married life, I think, and then . . ."

"And then I forgot I knew him and tried to kill him," she finished forlornly.

She didn't have to have her memories to realize that she hadn't always acted wisely in regard to their relationship. But wasn't what he said true? That relationships were about growing and figuring each other out so that mistakes could be gotten over? Still, it was frustrating that Chuck – a brilliant man who knew every single thing about her – could misinterpret things all the way down the line. She had been all in from the start, probably long before he was, but whose fault was it that it'd taken him so long to figure it out? Both of theirs, probably. But they couldn't keep blaming each other for the past, or else the cycle would never end.

"Chuck doesn't blame you for what happened with Quinn," Morgan said firmly. "Of course he doesn't. Nobody does. He just wants his wife back, and I'd like my friend back."

Sarah looked at Morgan, so obviously trying to cheer her up, and she smiled. "Thank you for being so honest." She could appreciate how hard all of that was to say, especially knowing how hard it was to hear. But it was exactly what she needed. "And I'm still your friend, Morgan. Even if it takes us a little while to get back to where we were, I hope you know that."

"I do," he nodded. "We all love you, Sarah, and we've all missed you. Alex wants to have you over soon if you're up for it."

"That sounds great." And it actually did sound great – normal - routine. Sarah took a couple of steps towards the door. But there was something else that still needed to be said. So she suddenly turned to face him again. "I didn't give him enough," she said sadly. "That's why he's so messed up now. It wasn't on purpose, Morgan. But I didn't give him. . ." Sarah's voice trailed off. "I feel so horrible."

Morgan's reply was both firm and softly loving at the same time. "Sarah, stop thinking like that. You were doing your best. Everybody knows that, Chuck better than anybody. And I don't want you to get the wrong impression. Chuck knows you love him. He does. He just . . . maybe doesn't totally understand you sometimes. But he's working on it."

Once again, Sarah was struck by how lucky her husband was to have a friend like Morgan. "You're a great friend, Morgan. I know you worry about him, but I will always be there to protect him. And I'm going to do whatever it takes to prove that to him, and to you."

His mouth twisted in thought. "Chuck doesn't know that you're here, does he?" It was far more statement than question.

She shook her head. "I'll tell him, I promise, but could you not mention this little meeting until I can talk to him about it?"

A broad smile on his face, Morgan simply nodded.

"Thanks for your help, Morgan," she said with her own smile. "Things are going to be different this time. I promise."

x-x-x-x-x


	8. Corned Beef and Swiss

_We don't own Chuck. Actually, we don't own much of anything. _

_If you enjoyed this or any of the stories on this site, please take a second and send the author a review. It only takes a second – and it really, really makes a difference. That's probably more important than ever now that the series has ended. If you want to keep the Chuck fandom alive and continue to read about these characters, you really need to think about rewarding the people whose hard work make that possible._

**Corned Beef and Swiss**

x-x-x-x-x

This was a funny business. Every day was basically the same, so predictable. From 11:00 to 3:00, the place was crazy packed, so packed you didn't have the space to breathe. But between the lunch and dinner rushes, it got downright sleepy. That rule probably applied to most restaurants, but especially take-out delis.

As it was not quite the end of the lunch rush, Lou saw her sitting at one of the few tables in the place that no one ever used anyway well before she had a chance to do anything about it. She was just sitting there, calmly drinking her cup of coffee. Lou knew very well who she was. No woman was ever introduced to their new boyfriend's recent ex without taking full measure, especially when the ex was as stunning as Sarah Walker.

At the table, Sarah was far too deep in thought to pay much attention to anything going on around her, even the deli owner throwing curious glances her way. That in itself was an amazing statement. Spies were trained to always be fully aware of their surroundings, to keep an eye open, be on the lookout for possible threats. But that was out the window now. Agent Walker was nowhere to be found.

It was the damndest thing. Everyone felt such sympathy for her for losing her memories. She understood that, especially since there were lots of things she wished she remembered. But they really didn't involve Chuck. The things she wished she could recall at the snap of her fingers had more to do with Ellie, Morgan, Casey, and her Mom, rather than Chuck. Not that those people were more important than he was, but Chuck was so great at helping her live the special memories with him again. She was able to snuggle with him as he told her about their wedding, their engagement, their first dance, their first kiss. It was almost better, her getting to experience it for the first time all over again. Plus, Morgan's talk drilled into her head that she was better off not remembering a lot of what had happened in their relationship. It was painful, and they had both made serious mistakes. And, yes, mistakes were a big part of growth, but they also explained why Chuck was so uneasy all the time. There were so many times when they nearly didn't make it, when their near-fatal flaws almost did them in. And the walls she had up for so long didn't help his insecurity at all.

But there was one promise she felt entirely confident in making – things were going to be different this time. And maybe that was the true blessing of all the horrible events of the past few weeks.

Still, she wasn't quite sure why she was here. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. She sure as hell didn't even know what she was going to say. Maybe it would be better to just leave. This was a crazy idea anyway. But she took a deep breath, glanced at the woman behind the counter, and knew that it was important. It was symbolic, something she had to do for him, something that the old Sarah Walker never would have done. She still wasn't sure what a wife was supposed to do, how she was supposed to act, but her instincts told her that if she truly wanted to be Chuck's wife in the way that he needed and not just a partner who happened to be in love with him, this was something she needed to do. They also told her that 'normal' and 'supposed to' weren't phrases they set much store by. They liked to find their own roads, and that was exactly what they were going to do.

"Can I help you with something?"

Sarah looked up to find Lou standing right beside her table. She didn't look angry, like she'd expected. Curious, though not especially friendly. Sarah decided it was best to say what she came here to say, and they could go their separate ways.

"Do you remember me?" she asked.

"Of course," Lou nodded. "Who could ever forget Sarah Walker?"

It didn't sound much like a compliment, but Sarah held out a hand. "Would you like to sit down?" Off of Lou's uncertain look, she added, "Just for a minute? Then I'll be out of your hair forever, I promise."

The brunette walked away, and Sarah let out a deep sigh, shoulders sagging, as she watched her disappear behind the counter. She perked up again as the deli owner reappeared a moment later, a carafe of coffee in one hand and two mugs in the other.

As Lou cautiously sat down, she explained with a small smile, "Figured this might get complicated, and coffee always makes everything easier, right?"

Sarah chuckled as Lou poured coffee for the two of them. "Yeah. Of course. And it's actually Sarah Bartowski now. We've been married for almost a year."

Lou's smile grew, just a bit. "That's great. Congratulations. Your business card still says 'Sarah Walker,' though. Is there something going on there? Is that what you want to talk to me about?"

"No, no," Sarah assured her with a shake of her head, taking a swig of coffee. It was hot, refreshing. Things with Chuck may not be going exactly to plan, but it was working. "Things are good. Chuck and I are . . . taking care of each other."

Lou regarded her silently for a few seconds. Then, "So, is that what you came here for? To tell me how wonderful your life is now?"

Sarah's eyes widened in surprise. "No. No, no, of course not. Look, I know this must sound terribly strange to you, but Chuck and I were talking about you the other night, and he feels horrible about what happened. It occurs to me that you weren't treated very well but that no one ever really explained anything to you. I wanted you to know that Chuck wasn't the bad guy. If anyone was, it was me. And I wanted to apologize."

Lou took a deep breath. Thoughtfully, she asked, "He still feels bad? That was years ago."

"Yeah, well . . ." Sarah shrugged. "It's Chuck."

It needed no further explanation, because things like that bothered him, and that was a big part of the reason she fell in love with him both times. Because he cared about people outside of himself, because he took huge steps to put those people first in his life.

"He really liked you, you know," Sarah told her companion. "It seems he's attracted to really fiery women, which may not be a good thing, because now he's afraid you might run him over in the parking lot."

Lou's smile grew. "The thought has crossed my mind a time or two," she admitted with a chuckle, "but that was a long time ago. Tell Chuck he doesn't have anything to worry about."

"Thanks. I will." They sipped their coffee in silence for another moment before Sarah added, "Chuck said he heard you got engaged a few months ago. That's fantastic. Congratulations."

"Yeah, thanks." Lou's smile faded. "But that, uh, that fizzled out."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You didn't know," Lou assured her with a wave of her hand. She laughed lightly and added, "Actually, I'm kind of just letting everyone think I'm still engaged."

"Why's that?" Sarah asked uncertainly.

Lou shrugged. "To keep certain men off my back. I'm sure you can relate."

"I can," replied Sarah with a nod. Gently, she said, "But that'll keep away the good guys, too. And trust me, Lou, it may not seem like it, but they're out there."

"Well, they should hurry up and get a move on," Lou chuckled. "A girl can't wait forever, you know."

Sarah laughed softly, palm cupped around her coffee mug. This was nice, she decided. Chatting, having coffee with a girlfriend. It made her long even more for a return to the friendship she shared with Ellie. And in the space of a second, she decided that, in addition to fixing things with Chuck, repairing her relationship with his sister would have to be a priority as well.

"Keep making sandwiches like you do and I don't think you'll have to," Sarah smiled. A bit more hesitantly, she ventured, "Speaking of, if I wanted to take Chuck a sandwich . . ."

"I won't spit on it, no," Lou laughed.

Sarah laughed, too. "Thanks."

"Corned Beef and Swiss, extra horseradish, extra pickles on the side. That still right? I'll whip one right up."

Sarah's smile weakened. "You remember his favorite sandwich after more than four years?"

This would have been easier if Lou's feelings for Chuck hadn't been as strong, or if she could've gotten over him quickly. But some things – the most important things – weren't meant to be easy.

"Yeah, well . . ." Lou said with a sigh. "I think it was more the _idea_ of Chuck that really turned my head, you know? He was so much different than any guy I'd ever paid attention to before, but in the end . . . I don't know. I can't shake the feeling that it wouldn't have ended up that well. Chuck doesn't exactly strike me as the kind of guy who settles for normal."

Sarah's chuckle held little mirth. "I think you'd be surprised at how attracted to the notion he is."

Lou took a sip of coffee and then smiled. "Well, then you'll be the one to help him find it."

Sarah blushed, knowing exactly how lucky she was to have married a guy who gave up his shot at normalcy for a life with her, all because he loved her.

"Don't worry," she said. "Someday soon, you'll find someone to be normal with, too."

"I appreciate that," Lou chuckled. "But for now, just tell Chuck he doesn't have to be afraid to come in and get a sandwich. I won't bite him, or poison him. I'm long past that phase."

"Got it," Sarah replied with a nod. "Thanks. That'll make him happy. But don't be surprised if he and Morgan add your deli to their weekly lunch rotation."

"Oh, no. Morgan?"

Laughing, Sarah hastily explained, "He's got a steady girlfriend now. I think you're safe."

"Thank goodness."

x-x-x-x-x

The park was full of shadows, but Eric should be used to that by now, living in darkness. That's what spies do, isn't it? Skirt through the gloom, make deals with the devil, never seeing the light. Suddenly, he felt sick to his stomach, because this was how he would die, too. Maybe not literally. Maybe he would live to a ripe old age and die in his bed, no achievements to his name except some secrets scribbled in files tucked away in cabinets in an office in D.C.

Then a twist of jealousy gripped him as he thought of Sarah Walker and the few others who had managed to escape throughout the years. The ones who had enough of a head on their shoulders to question everything from the beginning, to not take the Agency at their word, to decide their fates for themselves. The ones who wouldn't end up with any regrets.

Spotting a bench across the way, he forced those thoughts out of his mind. He crossed the damp grass, took a heavy seat, and pulled a flask out of his jacket pocket to take a long swing. His contact was nowhere in sight. He sighed and took another drag of whiskey.

The blare of a phone ringing startled him out of his spiraling thoughts. He looked up to see a payphone at the corner of the walkway. He must have been too distracted to notice it earlier, and then he chastised himself, because he was getting sloppy. He couldn't afford to get sloppy, not now, not when the Agency was beginning to see him as used goods.

The ringing didn't stop, so he stood on shaky legs and went to answer it. The receiver was sticky in his hand, but he was too tired to wipe it off.

"Hullo?" he said.

His voice sounded slurred even to his own ears.

"Is this the flower shop on Fourth?" the voice, gruff and low, asked.

Even through his fuzzy mind, he was able to recognize the code phrase and stammer out the response. "No, that shop closed a decade ago. This is the park."

"Excellent. Your mark is Bartowski."

"Bar-" he coughed. "You mean Walker?"

Maybe he had drunk too much.

"No," the man growled. "You know the one. Find him. Bring him in. Use the girl if you have to."

Frowning, he leaned his forehead against the phone box. He didn't relish the idea of facing Walker again, not after she'd handed him his ass so easily. This time would have to be different. And the honest truth was he needed this. This man could put him back on top again, not only with the agency, but to himself as a man. He didn't care about how shady this whole transaction was. He was a spy, after all. He lived in the shade, thrived in it. It was time to own that.

x-x-x-x-x

There were still lots of details that Sarah didn't know about Chuck, but one thing she had definitely learned was the look that came over his face when he was _really_ happy. One thing she was a little surprised about, though, was that it applied to more than just the bedroom. Because that look was there now, and all he was doing was eating a sandwich.

"Mmmm . . ." Chuck murmured as he took another huge bite. "This is so good." He held out the sandwich to her and, through another mouthful, said, "You _have_ to try it."

Even though she was glad her husband was enjoying herself, her nose wrinkled. "Um, no, thanks." Swiss and horseradish weren't exactly her thing, but she loved that he loved it. And she was amazed at how much progress they'd made so far. Lou hadn't even let her pay for it. She chuckled softly at his face. "I think I'll just stick to my salad."

"Mmm . . ." Chuck said again with a contented sigh. Mouth still full, he explained, "I've missed this _so_ much." Thankfully, he swallowed before asking, "So, tell me again how you happened to wander into Lou's deli. And how did you know the details of my favorite sandwich of hers?"

"I already told you," she shrugged. "I didn't 'happen to wander in.' I was over on that side of town, and I remembered you saying that you missed eating there, so I went in and got you a sandwich." She sent a playful smirk his way. "Can't a girl do something nice for the guy who keeps her feet warm at night?"

"I suppose you must've run into Lou," he ventured hesitantly.

"She came up to me," she clarified. "She recognized me, and we talked for a bit. I told her . . . we both felt bad about the way we'd handled the situation a couple years ago."

Chuck cleared his throat and then asked, "And what'd she say?"

"She's okay, Chuck. She thought it was sweet that you still felt bad, she's not angry any more, and she even offered to make you this sandwich. She remembered how you liked them."

"Well, thank you. That was nice of you," Chuck said as he pushed away from the table. He narrowed his eyes. "But . . . there's more to this story, isn't there?"

The question hung between them for a moment. He sighed, regretting that he was pushing her.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately, waving his hands. "You know what? Never mind. It's your business." He shot her a smile in the hopes that she'd look past the request. He was sure she'd tell him all about it when she was ready.

So he was surprised when she stood, took him by the hand, and said, "Come to the sofa." She led him to the couch and pushed him down gently, then sat across from him on the coffee table. "There is more to the story," she said softly. "So let's talk for a minute, okay?"

"W-what do we need to talk about?"

"Us. I have to tell you something important."

It took Sarah only a second to recognize the devastated look on his face, and it hit her. He was expecting bad news; like he expected her to tell him that it was over, that she was leaving. She clenched her jaw and fought down her initial reaction to be pissed. After spending the past few days around him, she understood that was not always the best way to get through to him.

So she took his hands in hers, thumbs running over his knuckles, and began firmly, "This is exactly what we need to talk about. What have we done today?"

His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, first thing this morning, we made love until we could barely move, and then we cuddled in bed all morning and made plans for our future, including talking about starting a family. Then what?"

"Uh, then we flew to San Francisco for lunch."

"Right. Then?"

He reached up to scratch the back of his neck thoughtfully. "We, uh, had dinner. Well, you brought me one of my favorite sandwiches. And you told me that Lou's doing all right."

"So, a good day?"

"A great day. One of the best days of my life."

"Mine too," Sarah smiled. "Then on why on earth, after we spent such a fantastic day together, would you assume the worst just because I said I had something to tell you?" Her knee brushed against his. "I'm not going anywhere, Chuck, but I need to know why you think it's even a possibility at this point, why you're so inclined to immediately think the worst of me, always."

"I'm sorry," he breathed, hanging his head. "You're right."

She gave his hands a squeeze. "I know, but sorry isn't going to work this time. If every time one of us brings up a problem, the other just apologizes, we're just going to get stuck in an endless loop."

"Okay, so what do you suggest?"

She sighed. This was the man who knew her better than she knew herself sometimes. If only he'd stop second guessing himself and start having more confidence in the two of them as a couple. He should know, logically, that she would never do any of those things he feared. She wouldn't leave him flat, she wouldn't take off, she wouldn't abandon him. Yet it was as if, when it came to her, he turned off his brain.

"We need to fix this. And I want you to tell me the real reason so we can fix it. Together."

After a hesitation, he finally said, "It's . . . complicated."

"Luckily, I have the next sixty or so years free. Take your time. Do you want some paper and a pen to draw some visual aids?" She leaned in closer to warn, "And don't you dare say I'm out of your league. If the word 'deserves' comes out of your mouth at any point in this explanation, I won't be held accountable for my actions."

"I'll keep that in mind," he chuckled. "And you're right. This is pretty ridiculous, isn't it?"

"Very."

Half of her desperately wanted to slap some sense into him, the other half just as desperately to wrap her arms around him, hold him tight, and tell him it was going to be okay. Unfortunately, neither would work this time. It was clear. The future father of her children didn't trust her, never really had. It was hurting him, and there was no good reason for it. That was something they had to fix, especially if they had to work at it. Because she was not going to spend the rest of her life walking around on eggshells worrying that the next thing she said or did would hurt him even worse.

Chuck tugged on her hands. "I trust you, Sarah. I do."

"In some ways, yes. But it's not to the extent that a husband needs to trust his wife." She knew she was being harsh, but this was no idle accusation. It was a demonstrable fact; easily seen once you knew where to look. She was by no means blaming him either. He had good, understandable reasons to not trust her. She only needed him to recognize that he had to admit it before they could fix it. "Do you want to hear my theory?"

"Sure," he nodded, though his expression was still slightly wary.

Trying to keep the conversation as light as possible, she said, "I don't have any visual aids, so bear with me?"

Chuckling softly, he nodded.

She gave his hands another hearty squeeze before taking a deep breath. "I have a suspicion your mom and dad have a lot to do with this, but for now, let's just talk about us, all right?" Off his nod, she continued, "The Intersect flipped your life around, and not really for the better, considering it came with a life of lies and a cover girlfriend, one you were forced to spend every waking moment with, one all your friends kept saying you had no shot with."

She paused, at a momentary loss for how to go on. There was so much she had to tell him, but she wasn't accustomed to talking about herself. Then she realized she'd already set up the conversation talking about 'her,' as in her old self, someone she no longer was. Maybe it would be easier to continue in that vein.

"And maybe," she told him, "maybe they were right. Because, at first, you were just an assignment to her, just part of her job. And then, all of a sudden, before she knew what was happening, you weren't. But the thing is, Chuck, she didn't know what to do about it. She was stuck with no way out. No matter how many times she told you it could never work, it never felt true to you… because it wasn't. There were times when you believed her, but other times when she couldn't hide the way she felt. She'd panic, push you away, and break your heart all over again. And the cycle would continue."

"Even though you were the only person she wanted to see every morning when she woke up, being around you made her miserable. And she made you pretty miserable, too. You convinced yourself you weren't her type, so you dumped her and tried dating other people."

"Sarah –"

"No," she interrupted. "Just let me get this out, okay?" When he nodded, she continued, "She was always hanging around these smooth, strong, confident alpha-male types, and you were sure you didn't measure up. So after years of misery and endlessly wondering whether they could happen or not, you gave up. You pushed her toward someone you thought was her type, Daniel Shaw."

His head shot up. "That's not fa –"

She cut him off with a look. It wasn't his best decision ever, but they would talk more about that later.

"So," she sighed, "by now, you knew this woman inside and out. You were the only person in the world who knew what made her tick. And what makes you so amazing, Chuck, is that instead of using that knowledge to your advantage, you loved her from afar. All you wanted was for her to be happy."

Scooting into him, she dipped her head close to his. "But she couldn't be happy without you, and eventually you pulled your head out of your ass long enough to realize that. And you, thankfully, finally did what you are so, so good at."

Finally, that drew a smile from him. "What's that?" he breathed, his breath tickling her cheek.

"You fought for me."

In fact, he tried to rescue her. He was crazy like that, but also considerate and caring and really pretty amazing. She'd never thought of herself as someone who needed rescuing, but then Chuck had come along, and she'd found that he was rescuing her not only physically but emotionally as well.

"And it was incredible for a while," she smiled. "But you know what happened after we got together?"

"What?"

"We let all our doubts creep right back in. I couldn't say I loved you. You wouldn't talk to me about your problems. We knew why we were having problems, but we didn't do anything to fix them, and you kept taking them as signs we were headed for the end."

Surely, logically, he had known why she couldn't utter those words as quickly as he had, why she felt the need to keep her clothes packed up in her suitcase for the first six months they were together.

"And I admit I made tons of mistakes," she told him. "Not unpacking, the prenup, never wanting to ever talk about us. But I trusted you to know _why_. And I'm disappointed that, even when you didn't, you didn't just ask me."

Maybe the problem was that she'd come to expect him to be a little too perfect, able to see right through her and see all her doubts and insecurities and make them all better.

"At the very least," she sighed, "you should have known it was never about you. Instead of letting your doubt take over, you should have realized that I was crazy about you, and that's all that mattered. And things did get better. We worked at it, and we grew, and I settled down." She reached up to thread her fingers into his hair. The touch felt familiar, reassuring, as if she belonged here and was merely coming home after a long absence. "And I _liked_ my life with you. I opened up, starting talking about wanting a family. For the first time since we'd met, I felt happiness that was untouched by any doubts or fears. And you were finally convinced that I was all-in. And even though it was hard, that was okay. Marriage is supposed to be hard."

A flash of memory skirted across her brain. She stopped, closed her eyes, reached for it, and it came in a rush.

_We knew this wasn't gonna be easy,_ she was saying, _and we didn't get married because we thought life was easy. We got married so that we could be there for each other when things got tough, so that we could work through things together, rich or poor. _

It lightened her. The memories coming back to her, few and far between, seemed to be of their worst moments. But this one proved she was a wife who supported her husband in good times and in bad. And she meant to continue to do that. But it was a two-way street. She needed his support as well.

"And then our world came crashing down, didn't it?" she asked softly.

Chuck choked back the lump in his throat. "I thought . . ."

"I know what you thought," she told him gently.

And she did. She knew it exactly. His wife showed up, not remembering a second of their life together and trying to kill him. In his eyes, his marriage had disintegrated. He thought he'd lost her.

Then, after only a few days of living together again, she'd fallen head over heels once more. He shouldn't have been surprised, considering that was his strategy in asking her to stay with him. He had known her heart would be defenseless once she spent even an hour with him.

Maybe there was no science to explain it, but it was the same reason it'd happened the first time – they were perfect for one another. They filled each other's crevices and lit up each other's bright spots and brought out the best in each other. They made each other better, made each other want to _try_.

She shifted her hand to his neck, drew him close, and whispered, "But you won me back, Chuck. You always do. You always will. You'll always fight for me."

The problem was that he was acting like they were stuck in a loop, like this would happen all over again. She would get him to trust her then tear out his heart. She'd go running to one of those alpha males and leave him devastated and alone. She'd leave him like everyone he'd ever loved had left him – his mother, his father, his wife, even his sister now, in a way. It was a horrible thing to think, to dwell on.

She pulled back to look at him fully and make sure she commanded his attention. "I need you to listen to me very carefully. I am not going to leave you, Chuck. Ever." On a chance, she began, "We got married so that we could be there for each other when things got tough . . ."

His eyes narrowed, then widened as realization spread over his face. "So that we could work through things together. Sarah, you remember that?"

She nodded, and he scooped her up in a tight hug. "But I need you to help me through this," she whispered against his neck. "I need you to trust me, Chuck, to be honest with me. I know your motives were good, but it doesn't help us when you keep things from me, always waiting for the next bad thing to happen, and trying to fix it on your own. We need to help each other." She pulled away again to look in his eyes. Running her thumb along his cheekbone, she said, "Let me be your wife, Chuck. Let me fight for you just as hard as you fight for me."

Not for the first time, she wondered if maybe losing her memories wasn't all bad, because at least it allowed her to see him without three years of misery clouding her sight, gave her a fresh perspective.

Chuck didn't answer, but tears were quickly pooled in his eyes. He swallowed thickly, pulled her into another warm embrace, and didn't let go for a long, long time. Sarah knew she'd made her point, that trying to drive it home any further wouldn't help, so she just snuggled comfortably into him, climbing onto the couch beside him, and allowed him the space to process what all this meant for him, for them. There was no rush, because she wasn't going anywhere. She hadn't been kidding when she said she had the next sixty years free.

And this, being here beside him, in his arms, it felt wonderful. If she had her way, she'd stay snuggled into him for every single second of those sixty years. So she took it as a good sign that he was holding her so tightly, and she squeezed him right back.

Finally Sarah could feel the soft sobs he was trying so desperately to hide noticeably subside. "Let me ask you a question," she said softly, making no attempt to break their embrace. "Since we've been together there are some things that I've done to make you feel I wasn't all in. I didn't unpack for a long time. That clearly bothered you. What made me finally unpack?"

Chuck didn't look up, or even release his grip. "When you found out it bothered me," he started haltingly, "you unpacked that very day."

"And the not wanting to talk about commitment," she continued. "I told you that I needed to go slow. Did we go slow?"

Chuck paused for a moment to consider the question. "I guess not," he finally replied. "We were engaged six weeks later. You knew that I was worried about it. So you're the one who came to me and told me that you wanted to marry me."

Sarah's smile noticeably broadened. Well, Chuck didn't notice it. His head was still buried. "Tell me something," she said. "Do we currently have a prenuptial agreement in place?"

"No," Chuck admitted. "When you found out it bothered me, you made a big romantic show out of tearing it up."

So now Sarah couldn't keep the smile from her voice. "Chuck," she said. "There are all these things that you took as signs that somehow I had doubts. You allowed those signs to develop into fear that this wasn't real somehow. Sweetie, you're a brilliant logical man. Tell me, am I the only one who sees a pattern here?"

Chuck didn't answer at first. When his breathing calmed, he finally released his grip and asked hoarsely, "Just when did you get so smart?"

"Excuse me?" she retorted with a raised eyebrow. "You're not the only college graduate here, you know. I went to Harvard. Maybe you've heard of it." She chuckled and pressed a short kiss to his cheek before adding, "Besides, you know how competitive I am. You know everything about me. Seems only fair I'd want to know everything about you, right?"

He stared at her for a moment, eyes narrowed, before grinning. "So, what else did Morgan tell you?"

"Morgan?" she asked in faux surprise.

"Don't even try it," he said, his eyes sparkling. "You were at the deli this afternoon, and you're trying to tell me you didn't go across the courtyard and talk to the big mouth who knows all of the facts you just recited? You expect me to buy that?"

She really shouldn't have been so surprised that he saw through her that quickly. This was her husband, after all.

At the mention of Morgan, snippets of their conversation floated through her mind. This wasn't the time, however, to bring up questions about his dating this Hannah girl.

"Morgan's my friend, too, you know," she told him cheekily. "I'm allowed to talk to him. What else did he tell me? He kept telling me over and over how much you love me… but I already knew that. And for the record, he's every bit as wrong about a lot of things as you are. It's just that he has a better excuse."

Chuck, still smiling, shook his head. "You're pretty proud of yourself for figuring all this out, aren't you?"

Grinning, she leaned her head on his shoulder. He had just proven her point. He knew every single thing about her, so of course he knew that she was proud of herself. And because she knew all about him, too, she knew that he was proud of her in turn – for opening up, for speaking her mind, for working at this. Anyone who knew Sarah at all knew that when she wanted something, she was in all the way.

"I am," she confessed. "But I think you're pretty proud of me, too, aren't you?"

"Of course," he chuckled. He ran his fingers lightly up and down her arm. "Very proud. You're amazing, you know that?"

She shrugged. He'd always been impressed by her abilities as a spy, but the truth was that didn't matter much in the long run. Separately, they both had serious flaws. Together, though, they were pretty awesome.

In fact, now that they were in each other's minds so perfectly, maybe they should stop talking all together. They could simply know each other's thoughts, like the elves from Middle Earth.

Sarah's train of thought stopped abruptly at that. She wasn't quite certain where that had come from, but there it was.

Sighing, she settled back against Chuck. "Only when I'm with you," she murmured.

They stayed quiet for a little while before he finally said quietly, "I'm . . . Sarah, I'm really sorry about this." He sighed into her hair. "I do love you. I can't tell you how much. You shouldn't have to question that."

Again, she felt like she needed to slap some sense into him. Of course she knew that he loved her. Even if she didn't know every detail about him, it was there for the world to see.

She leaned up to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "I know that. You know I do. But you have nothing to be sorry for. You've been incredible throughout this, and I will never, ever question that you love me. Maybe . . ." She trailed off, biting her lip.

Chuck tilted his head. "Maybe what?"

"Maybe you think I feel that way because _you_ do? Because I haven't been so open about telling you I love you. Because I haven't been there for you as much as I should have been."

"No, no, no," he protested, shaking his head emphatically. "Sarah, you've saved my life so many times, I've lost count. I absolutely know that you love me. And it's not like you've never said it." With a shrug, he said, "I understand that talking about feelings has never been your thing."

She shifted on the couch to face him fully, then took his face between her hands. "I'm not talking about saving your life. It's not about that." Although yes, her concern for his safety was definitely above average because of how she felt about him. "It's about you waking up in the middle of the night and seeing me beside you and holding me and just _knowing_ that I love you. Being absolutely certain. And knowing that we belong together."

Because that was the difference between a partner and a spouse. A partner may save you physically, but a spouse is there, always, to save you emotionally. And it's time she started trying to save him a little, too. If words alone wouldn't fix it, then she was always more action oriented anyways. Sarah Walker was going to earn her husband's trust.

Maybe 'trust' wasn't entirely the right word. Maybe 'comfortable' was a better choice. Yeah, she was going to earn him feeling comfortable.

Chuck pulled her closer and said, "We do, don't we?"

She smiled. Nowhere had ever felt so much like home as his arms did at this moment. Shifting against him, she looped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. His arms slid around her waist to pull her closer. The kiss started off slowly but quickly grew in intensity, and before she knew it, her heart was racing.

Even with his hands on her waist and his lips on hers and their surfaces blending, she was coherent enough to know that now was the perfect time to start showing him just how much she loved him. So she pulled away from the kiss far enough to let him see her soft smile. "I'd like to propose a deal," she said.

Chuck clearly wasn't expecting anything at this point other than clothes being torn off, so it took him a moment to respond. And when he did, it was somewhat less than smooth. "Huh?" he asked. "A deal? What kind of deal?"

"We're both all in," Sarah said. "I think we've proven that rather conclusively this evening. Wouldn't you agree?"

Chuck didn't know exactly where this was going so he nodded tentatively.

"But we have to make sure that those stupid doubts don't creep back," Sarah continued. "We both deserve to be reinforced. But we're different people, Chuck. You're words and I'm actions. So here is my deal. You use your words. Keep telling me how much you love me and all of those sweet things that you're always saying to make me feel so wonderful. But when something bothers you, you need to use your words then too. Talk to me. At least give me a chance to fix it before you go running off crying to Morgan."

Chuck's initial reaction was concern. She was clearly not teasing. But when he noticed the soft smile on her face he relaxed a little. "Okay," he said rather tentatively. "I haven't been very fair, have I?"

"Neither of us has been very fair," Sarah said. "You deserve to be reinforced every bit as much as I do. I've dropped the ball on that. Since I struggle with words, I'll have to use my actions."

"Actions," Chuck said. "What does that mean? Is that code for more sex? I'd be up for that."

Sarah joined Chuck in laughing as she thought for a moment how to explain this to him. She flashed back to her meeting the other day. Beckman said that she was doe-eyed. Maybe that was a good way to explain it. "Maybe a little," she said with a clear twinkle. "I would enjoy that too." Then she paused for a moment to control her laughing and get more serious. "It's more than just sex though. It's how I conduct myself. It's holding your hand. It's looping my arm through yours when we walk someplace. It's not trying to hide the doe-eyed look on my face that tells the world how grateful I am to have such a wonderful husband… and how much I honestly adore him. I'll fawn over you. So, do we have a deal?"

Chuck didn't hesitate. "Deal," he said. "This might be interesting."

"It might be very interesting," Sarah agreed as she leaned in to kiss him. "So what's your vote? The bedroom? Or right here on the couch?"

"Huh?"

"I'm taking charge," Sarah replied with the twinkle now even more evident. "You know me. I have a need to make things happen. Fawning is not only sex, Chuck. But surely you realize that it includes sex. I'll allow you to decide where you want to be seduced tonight. The bed would probably be more comfortable... but the couch an exciting first, at least for me. The condoms being stored in the bedroom would have been a factor yesterday. But since this morning's discussion that no longer applies."

Chuck's grin lit up the room. There was also a beaming grin on her face, but she clearly wasn't really teasing. "Both good arguments," he said. "Let me think about it."

Sarah placed her hands on the side of Chuck's face and kissed him softly. Well it started off softly anyway. She got off the couch, stood directly in front of him, and began to slowly unbutton her shirt.

"Wait," Chuck protested in mock frustration. "I thought I was deciding."

"You took too long," Sarah said. She couldn't hide the giggle when she watched his eyes widen in wonder when her shirt slid to the floor.

"I'm action, Chuck. I thought we had already established that."

x-x-x-x-x


	9. Roses From Hell

_We don't own Chuck. Actually, we don't own much of anything. _

_If you enjoyed this or any of the stories on this site, please take a second and send the author a review. It only takes a second – and it really, really makes a difference. That's probably more important than ever now that the series has ended. If you want to keep the Chuck fandom alive and continue to read about these characters, you really need to think about rewarding the people whose hard work make that possible._

**Roses From Hell**

x-x-x-x-x

Sarah's waking thought was how horribly wrong she had been last night. In her mock decision-making process, she teased Chuck by telling him that the bed would be more comfortable. After all, the couch really wasn't designed for one person to sleep on it comfortably all night, much less two. So they were currently wedged together so firmly that it was almost impossible to move. Lying beside him was impossible, which meant she was more or less directly on top of them, every square inch of their bodies touching in some way.

Even as she stirred awake, she struggled to find a word to describe the night. 'Odd' wasn't exactly right, but 'magical' fell short, too. They had alternated making-love sessions with giggling sessions so many times that Sarah lost track. And it seemed Chuck was right. He knew her perfectly, what she wanted before even she did. And maybe he still left it up to her to get things started, but once she did, he took the lead and took her to places she never imagined.

It made her wonder if he was always this generous in bed or was he just trying extra hard to impress her? She strongly suspected the former, and if so, that made Sarah Walker-Bartowski the luckiest woman in the world.

But Sarah still wasn't sure which she liked best, because the giggling sessions were every bit as fun. In a different way perhaps, but every single bit as intense. Not that Sarah had much to compare it to after spending her life around agents and conmen with no sense of humor, but Chuck was simply the funniest man she had ever met. Lying beside him and laughing until her side hurt and still not being able to stop was not only a totally new and wonderful experience. It was perhaps the very best feeling of her life.

The small afghan that usually adorned the back of the couch was clearly designed to be more decorative in nature. Chuck said that she had picked it out on a mission about six weeks before they were married, specifically on the same mission where they had witnessed for themselves that the oft rumored romance between Beckman and Roan Montgomery was indeed real. In fact, during one of their giggling sessions he told her that they had once witnessed them in a rather compromising position that Sarah was probably better off not remembering. He also let slip that she had shown off her belly-dancing skills. She wasn't sure if he was teasing about that, because she didn't remember reading about that bit in the mission files, but it could very well explain the bedlah hanging in her closet. Wherever she had bought the stupid afghan, it really wasn't meant to be a blanket. It didn't even come close to covering their feet.

Still, even with the squished bodies and the cold ankles, this was the most comfortable she had ever felt in her life. The heat from his body more than made up for the skimpiness of whatever was covering them. His arms, wrapped gently but firmly around her, not only kept her in place, but surrounded her with warmth. She could feel his chest rise and fall with every breath he took, took comfort in the gentle, rhythmic motion. She had never allowed herself to be in such an intimate position, so close to someone both physically and emotionally. Even better, she could see the contented smile on his face as he slept . . . and knew full well that he felt every bit as great as she did. Fulfilled, happy.

"Good morning, beautiful," he mumbled.

Sarah had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she had missed the fact that his eyes were open. He reached up one of his hands behind her head and kissed her lovingly, one of those kisses that contained the promise of even something more to come.

"How did you sleep?" he asked with a grin, his voice still sleepy.

Not only had she never slept better in her life, but this was the first time Chuck had been the one to initiate a kiss like that, at least in their new life together. The unspoken meaning was clear. He was comfortable with her. Their mini therapy session last night had worked. That made her heart soar to the point of wanting to get up and dance around the room.

She wasn't about to take anything for granted, though. She was still going to make the effort to constantly fawn all over him, but hopefully the immediate crisis had been averted. Maybe someday they could even settle into something like an established married-couple routine, whatever that looked like for them. But right now, Sarah was determined to fully enjoy every single minute of the honeymoon stage they were ensconced in, the one that showed no sign of ending anytime soon.

"I slept great," she responded with a contented sigh. "Who knew that you made such a wonderful mattress and pillow?"

Reluctantly, she rolled off of him and sat on the edge of the couch, still grinning. A bright pink spread over his cheeks, and he averted his eyes from her profile. She chuckled. Surely he was used to seeing her without clothes, right? They had been married for almost a year, had lived together for a year before that, and it was the second night in a row that had featured long, multiple love-making sessions. He certainly never complained last night as she stood there in front of the couch and put on a show for him. Yet here he was, still blushing at the sight of her naked chest. He was obviously much, much more modest about those things than she was. But she had to admit his reaction was more than a little endearing. Maybe it was best that she had resisted that temptation to dance around the room. But this also clearly presented an ongoing opportunity for her to tease him. Maybe a little of that would be in order this morning.

"I'll have to think of some innovative way to thank you for your service as my mattress," she said playfully, "but it's going to have to wait until after breakfast. My stomach's growling."

It _was_ true. They hadn't eaten since dinner, and they'd just gone through quite a physical night. Her stomach was kicking up a fuss.

A sparkle in her eyes, she grabbed his hand and guided it toward her stomach. "Feel that?" she asked.

Chuck cleared his throat, his eyes widening slightly as he felt the gurgling. "I'm so sorry. You must be starving. I'll go see if we have anything in the house for breakfast. I don't think we do."

She tried to meet his eyes, but he kept his gaze averted as he made to get up. "That's so sad," she said, still teasing. "It has my heart racing in disappointment." Smiling wickedly, she took his hand and dragged it up towards her heart. "See if you can feel that."

He pulled his hand free from her grasp and laughed. "Very funny. Nice try."

"What?" she said with feigned innocence, joining in his laughter. "You don't want to feel my heart beating?"

"Yeah, I don't think so. I'm on to you, missy." He sat up, making sure the blanket still covered him, and said, "I'll just run out and pick us up something for breakfast."

"Want me to come with you?" she asked quietly. She wasn't teasing now, because simply the thought of letting him go for even a moment or two sent a sting through her. Is this what it felt like? Did being in love mean never wanting to leave this blissful bubble, never let anyone in on their paradise? If so, she found herself surprisingly okay with that.

Chuck, the blanket wrapped around himself, fished around the room for his clothes. "That's okay," he mumbled, pulling on his shirt. "I have a couple of quick errands to run. You'll probably want to shower anyways. I'll be back before you realize I'm gone."

x-x-x-x-x

The shower was more than refreshing. It was heavenly. The night had been exhausting in the best way possible, but still exhausting, and the steam water rejuvenated her senses.

As she stepped out and dried off, she was half-tempted to keep teasing him by staying mostly undressed, or at least by wearing something very revealing. But she finally decided to get dressed . . . for now, anyway. There was no doubt that Chuck was beginning to get the general idea that she was more than willing to parade around in front of him in various stages of undress as well as poke good-natured fun at him over his embarrassment about it. Maybe that was a weapon she should keep in her holster until a time when it would really come in handy.

Her decision to get fully dressed turned out to be a good one when the doorbell rang. There could be no one else it could be this early, and it wouldn't do to give Morgan any visuals he didn't need. And she didn't want to scar poor Alex if she happened to be with him.

It wasn't Morgan, though. When Sarah opened the door, a delivery man was standing there with two dozen stunning, long-stemmed roses.

"You Sarah Walker?" he asked gruffly.

She nodded, signed, and took the flowers, hardly noticing his departure as she held them up to her nose and took a hearty sniff. They smelled wonderful, like summer Sundays and sunshine. She already knew the perfect place for them. As she placed the vase on the bedside table, she swore she could see Chuck's face as he woke up to their scent and beauty the next morning.

It was so sweet of him to send flowers, but as she sank onto the edge of the bed, she found herself fighting a sigh. What woman wouldn't love to receive such beautiful roses? Her lips twisted in a frown as she stared at the blood-red petals. After their past few days together, she'd come to expect a sort of perfection out of Chuck. Roses were . . . cliché. Besides, after knowing things even _she_ didn't know about herself, it wasn't too much to expect him to know her favorite flower. Was it? Not to mention that he'd sent them to Sarah Walker. They'd have to have a little chat about that later. Without the business to protect, she was fully comfortable with taking his name for good. It was the mark of a new life, a new beginning, a new family. The hyphen was history.

Still, the whole gesture was sweet, which was the best adjective to describe Chuck, and there was no sense in making him feel badly when he was honestly trying to do something nice.

Hearing him at the door, she straightened, got up, and poked her head out into the hallway, looking forward to the promised breakfast.

"Breakfast!" he called from the kitchen.

"Be there in a sec!" she called back, running a brush through her hair one last time. "Thanks for the flowers!"

"Um . . ." he began, his voice a little off, "you're welcome." She paused. Had that been a question? But she shook it off as he continued, "I figured it's not right for you to do all the fawning. Maybe I could romance you a little, too."

"Well, they're really beautiful," she called, injecting a bit more enthusiasm into her voice.

"Okay, now you're really freaking me out," he laughed as he stuck his head through the bedroom doorway. "I know all about the spy thing, but seriously, you haven't even seen the flowers yet."

When she looked over at him, he was holding a bundle of striking snow-white flowers in his fist. Gardenias. A thrill shot through her heart only to be quickly replaced by a sense of dread. If Chuck hadn't sent them . . .

Unfortunately, while she struggled for an answer, Chuck's mind seemed to supply the worst one. A few steps closer to the table, he reached it before her and was the first to the card.

She set her jaw, fighting her instincts to grab the card out of his hand. Neither of them knew who they were from, and this could all just be an innocent mix-up. Maybe it was from the Awesomes, a get-well, hope-you-get-your-memories-back bouquet. But she couldn't fight the anger bubbling up, because she was his wife, and he should trust her more than this, not feel the need to steal the card to look at it before she did.

He heaved a sigh, his eyes on the small envelope between his fingers, and then handed it over. She took it calmly, her hand steady. Her brow creased as she slid a finger under the flap, tore it open, and pulled out the card. If she had expected anything, it certainly wasn't this.

"Who are they from?" he finally asked, his voice low and hard to read, as was his expression. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't joyful. "You know what? Never mind. I'm sorry," he said with a shake of his head. "It's none of my business."

"Of course it is, and you know it," she said, her patience draining. Frowning, she looked back at the card.

_Sarah,_

_I was an ass, as men are wont to be in the presence of a gorgeous woman. Give me another chance? I have some urgent news about a mutual friend. Dinner? 7:00 at the Grand Ambassador._

_Eric_

x-x-x-x-x

Eric Gold and his new team were having a raucously good time entertaining themselves with their imagined reaction to the flowers, and especially the card. With the ten-person team, including Eric and the senior agent, Alan, the suite was crowded.

"You sure she'll show up?" asked Alan gruffly. "Alone? Her history indicates she's a lot smarter than that."

Eric had to admit, he had never felt more alive. Knowing that he was now in control, that she would soon surrender, had him on fire. "She'll show," he replied confidently. They'd hit her where she lived, and if her record showed anything, it was how protective she was of this Bartowski guy. But she was also a lone wolf. She wouldn't risk his safety by bringing him along, and Agent Casey was out of the picture. There was no one left to help her. "And she'll be alone."

"I don't understand something," Alan said. "It's Bartowski who we need. Why don't we just pick him up? I'm sure we could talk him into cooperating."

"It doesn't work that way," Eric said. "We need his genuine cooperation. We can't force that out of him. He would screw us. No, he needs to think that he is doing it for her. He would do anything that she asked him too. That is what we have to make happen."

"But this is her husband we're talking about. There's no way she'll give him up."

"Then we'll have to break her." And he, for one, was looking forward to that. It was irrational, he knew. Walker wasn't the reason his career had been tanking for the past couple years. Still, she was everything he hated, the kind of agent who took initiative and broke the rules time and again but never got punished, the kind who was allowed free reign for a reason he was never able to figure out. "That's where your team comes in. She'll have to learn that cooperating with me is his only viable option."

"How far should we go?" asked Alan. He stood straight, his body taut, as if humming with anticipation of the assignment.

"Nothing permanent physically. At least not yet."

"It'd be a shame to mess up that face," agreed Alan through a chuckle.

"But don't be gentle, either," he warned.

He wanted her to feel pain, to feel empty, but most of all, he wanted her to feel helpless. She was proud. All agents were. Losing control was not something she would deal well with. Even so, he was looking forward to the battle of wills.

"Just make her understand that her pathetic husband's fate is entirely in my hands, and there'll be no question of her ultimate surrender."

Alan just stood there for a long moment. "This doesn't seem necessary," he said softly.

Eric was quickly growing tired of his questioning. Yes, of course the agency needed Bartowski. But he needed Walker. He needed to see her broken and pleading for his forgiveness. That would be the only way to move on, to redeem his honor, if only to himself. It was the way spies thought, right? _They get something - I get something_. It was maybe time that this middle management agent wannabe stopped arguing and followed his orders, got with the program a little. "It's necessary because I say that it's necessary," Eric snapped threateningly. "Any other questions?"

Alan snapped to attention. "No, sir," he said. "We're all over this."

x-x-x-x-x

Normally when Sarah was angry, she got quiet and introspective. That wasn't the case this time. Chuck had seen Sarah pissed before. He knew the way her lips tightened and her brow furrowed. Hell, he'd even been the cause of her anger more times than he could count. He didn't think she'd ever completely lose her hot-headedness, but no matter how many times he thought he'd get used to her temper, he'd never seen her quite like this.

She stormed over to the bedside table, snatched up the roses, and proceeded to stomp out of the bedroom and toward the kitchen, all the while spouting a line of obscenities imaginative enough to impress a sailor. He followed on her heels, hoping to at least make sure this morning ended with no glass shards scattered all over the kitchen. In a single fluid motion, she dumped the flowers into the trash can, grabbed the can, heaved open the door, and threw the entire can outside. Then, chest heaving, she took the gardenias and quickly but carefully arranged them in a new vase. She placed them on the kitchen counter, then took a step back to admire them.

She sighed, seemingly happy with the arrangement, turned to him, and said, "He shouldn't have sent those. If I had any idea they weren't from you . . ."

"Sarah, relax," he said, moving towards her to gather her in his arms. She came willingly, nestling her head against his shoulder. "He was the one who sent them, not you. The only thing I don't get is . . ."

"What?"

"He knows you're married, doesn't he?"

She pulled away from him to look in his eyes and immediately saw the unasked question – not if Gold knew, but if she had told him.

"Of course," she said. "But guys like that tend to not listen very well. And agents look at marriage differently. It's usually for convenience. Look, he didn't get the message the first time, but I'll make sure he does. Soon. All right?"

"Sure," he nodded, making sure to give his smile a boost. She hadn't done anything wrong, and he wanted to show her that he had no reason to be angry with her.

"If it makes you feel better," she told him with a smirk, "I have half a mind to kill him. It would save me the grief of suffering through another conversation with him, and you don't deserve to be subjected to his stupid antics like this."

He frowned and pulled her back against him. He hated the way she was acting as if this little thing would upset their balance, as if one tiny intrusion would set their delicate world crumbling.

"Sarah," he murmured into her hair, "stop acting like this will break us."

She sighed, a palm splayed against his chest. "It's just . . . I feel like every time we start to make some genuine progress, something happens to throw us off track again."

He fought back a chuckle, knowing that laughing right now would be a fatal mistake, so he simply ran a hand up and down her back in an effort to soothe her. "If you think making love practically all night is 'starting to make progress,' then I'm a dead man."

She laughed into his shoulder, surprised at the joke and at Chuck's reaction to all of this. He was so prone to jealousy that she'd expected this to force them five steps backward. Whatever sick game Gold was playing, the son of a bitch had just made a fatal mistake. She lifted her head to look at his face, at his relaxed smile. If anything, he was fighting the urge to laugh.

"I have no idea what Gold is up to," she told him, "but I certainly didn't give him any signals."

"Maybe he likes it rough," Chuck teased. "Maybe he considers being knocked unconscious as foreplay." His expression darkened, but he didn't add that maybe she should repeat that tonight. He would have no qualms with her kicking Gold's ass and wiping the floor with it.

She chuckled, enjoying his teasing even despite the topic of conversation. "If he thinks being knocked unconscious is foreplay, then I'm about to rock his world."

Chuck could no longer hold in the laugh. "This guy's such a moron. Didn't you say you used to know him?"

"Uh-huh."

"Then he must have a death wish."

That or he never really knew her at all, because any guy who knew Sarah understood that you couldn't approach her like you could a regular girl. She didn't need flattery or flowers. What she needed was a reason to trust you. And no, this didn't upset him as it would have a year or two ago, mainly because she couldn't – and didn't – trust a guy like Gold. She trusted _him_, Chuck Bartowski, her husband.

"He must," she agreed. "Don't worry. He's not going to live long enough to expend my emotional currency on."

"I'm not worried," he assured her, holding her gaze. His lips split into a smile. "In fact, I'm quite proud of how well I'm handling this."

Gazing into his warm brown eyes, the only thing she could think was how far they'd come, how much they'd grown.

Her smile fading, she reached up to grasp his neck, her thumb running along the back of his jaw. "Chuck, I may have to do some things I don't want to in order to take Gold down."

"I know that, and I'll be with you… like I always am."

"But with you, it's not like that. You know that, right?" _Everything I do, it's because I want to_.

He nodded, then gave her a soft kiss. "Come and eat, then."

Smiling, Sarah followed him, her hand linked with hers. On the kitchen table, there were a variety of bagels, strawberry-flavored cream cheese, and orange juice. Of course Chuck knew her favorite quick breakfast.

She sat down and pulled his hand into hers. Gently, she began, "You know I'm going to have to go tonight, don't you?"

Very calmly, he poured her a cup of coffee, and she was relieved to see that there was no tension in his posture as he did so. "I know," he nodded. "He knows it, too."

Chuck shook his head. This guy wasn't being subtle at all. He set up a scenario where she would have to agree to meet him. He was probably thinking they were arguing about it this very minute. He was going to offer her a trade, his critical information and his agreement to lay off Chuck in exchange for some groveling, and he knew what an agent's idea of groveling was. He thought he was smooth, but this idiot didn't have a clue about what made Sarah tick. So no, Chuck wasn't all that worried. At most, he was baffled over how this small, petty man ever got Sarah Walker out on a date.

"He doesn't seem to have wised up at all," he said. He chuckled. "Based on what I've heard, I can't imagine why you would ever go out with him in the first place."

Sarah bit her lip and took a sip of the coffee he slid in front of her. It was actually an excellent question. She could blame Carina for the first date, but what about the next few? Those were all her. Because she had wanted fun and freedom and no strings. It wasn't until Chuck that she'd learned how a place to ground you could be the one thing to keep you from floating away.

"Chuck," she said, "it was a long time ago. I was different back then."

"You were young, right?" he asked with a grin that was clearly designed to set her at ease. "You know, I think I'd like to meet this moron."

She was stunned, even after having been pleasantly surprised by Chuck so many times in the past week. Irrational jealousy was no longer an issue. Instead, they were looking at the situation rationally, examining the evidence, coming to logical conclusions.

"Why?" she asked with a smile. "So you can give him pointers on how to seduce me?"

"I _am_ something of an expert on that topic, Mrs. Bartowski," he chuckled, "how to get inside Sarah's panties."

She laughed, a warm feeling filling up her chest that had nothing to do with the coffee she was drinking. It was not surprising or mind-shattering to realize that she loved Chuck. What got her insides all twisted up in the best way was the realization that she loved being married to him. It was a shame that she'd apparently resisted the idea of a relationship for so long. She could understand it, because spies and relationships didn't exactly mix, but being in one with Chuck wasn't even in the same category.

She loved the comfortable intimacy, not only physical but emotional, as well. She loved their genuine protectiveness of each other. She really loved the lovemaking. Most of all, though, she loved the conversation, the pure joy of making each other laugh, especially with someone who knew her inside and out, someone who kept her on her toes.

"That's true," she laughed. "Care to share your technique?"

Chuck grinned. "Well, it's a bit hard to describe in words. Maybe this afternoon I'll give you a live demonstration."

Sarah took a bite of her bagel, savoring the taste. She really was starved. "I'm afraid the joke would be on you, Mr. Bartowski," she said, matching his grin.

"Oh, yeah? Why's that?"

"For a couple reasons. This afternoon is totally unacceptable. I expect this demonstration right after breakfast." She nudged him with her elbow. "Eat a little faster, will you?"

Chuck made a show of looking at his wrist, as his watch was somewhere in the bedroom. "Okay," he agreed, "after breakfast fits into my schedule. So what's the second reason?"

She smirked. "What makes you think I'm even wearing panties?"

x-x-x-x-x

Sarah stood outside the restaurant at the Grand Ambassador, subtly checking that the two exits they'd identified earlier were clear. They had agreed to go into this mission as just that – a mission. No distractions, taking nothing for granted. It was Sarah's condition for allowing Chuck to come along.

Leave it to Eric to pick such a high-end place. He knew she'd be pissed off from the note but that she wouldn't dare start anything physical in such a public place, a place full of well-to-do folks out for a fancy dinner. It also required the effort of a formal dress. Though she had several in her closet, she'd chosen the least spectacular, the most modest.

Or she would have. Chuck, though, had requested the one she currently wore – a black, backless satin evening gown that looked like she'd been poured into it, with a high slit and a plunging neckline. Judging from his grin when he'd first seen her in it, it was his favorite. And she had to admit she looked good in it. It screamed of elegant sophistication, with maybe just a hint of naughty hidden somewhere inside.

Better still, it was yet another sign of how much he'd grown, that he wasn't jealous over her wearing something so overtly sexy to meet another man, even an unfortunate specimen with the title of 'ex.' Best of all, though, was that it allowed her to insist that Chuck match her level of dress. She'd been looking for an excuse to see him in a tux, and he'd practically handed it to her.

As she was picturing his tall, lean frame, his voice came crackling over her earpiece. "Have I mentioned how incredible you look tonight?" he asked, and she could practically hear the grin in his voice. "Mrs. Bartowski, you are without a doubt the most beautiful woman in the world."

She chuckled softly.

He continued, "Maybe after the mission, we can take the jet to Vegas, have a late dinner of our own. Then maybe get a room with a view and a Jacuzzi?"

She rolled her eyes. Normally, Chuck being romantic and complimenting her would have her heart pounding, and she couldn't deny that the thought of looking over the Vegas lights and sitting in a hot Jacuzzi with a glass of champagne, some strawberries, and her even hotter husband was enough to set her nerves on fire. But she was in mission mode. She had to be. For his sake.

"Don't lose focus, Chuck," she murmured. "Mission, remember? We need to be ready for anything." Especially since they really had no idea what Eric was up to.

Chuck took the gentle rebuke in stride. "Yes, ma'am," he replied, injecting gravity into his voice. Sarah wouldn't respond well to any silliness on a mission, but he really hadn't been kidding about Vegas. It was nice to finally have the money to be able to treat his wife like the goddess she was. They could still get this done quickly and have time for a diversion to Sin City afterward.

He cleared his throat. "Mission mode," he told himself under his breath. A bit louder, he said, "I'm in position. No unusual activity outside. Parking lot looks calm."

"Might as well get this over with," Sarah sighed to herself. She walked up to the maître d'. "Excuse me," she said, "I'm meeting an Eric Gold for dinner. Could you show me to his table, please?"

"Good evening," he nodded. "Yes, Miss Walker? Mr. Gold left a note for you."

"What's it say?" Chuck asked in her ear almost immediately.

"Thank you," she said, taking the note and walking away. She ensconced herself near a pillar before opening it. "It says there's been a change of plans," she told him angrily. "He wants me to come up to his suite."

x-x-x-x-x


	10. On the Road Again

_We don't own Chuck. Actually, we don't own much of anything. _

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**On the Road Again**

x-x-x-x-x

Sarah stood outside the door to Eric Gold's suite debating with herself. Her spy instincts were ringing off the hook. She knew full well that Eric was messing with her here to keep her off balance. That much was pretty obvious, even Chuck quickly figured it out.

He was pretty insistent that this just didn't smell right, pleaded with her to just forget the stupid roses ever happened and go home. And Sarah was pretty tempted. After all, this was only day two of her second-first honeymoon. That's what Chuck had playfully begun to call it anyway. He said that they had about a dozen first dates. They might as well have multiple first honeymoons, right? There was no place that she wanted to be more than home, figuring out a new first time memory type activity… or more accurately, a new first time place for an already familiar activity.

But ultimately, Sarah realized that she would never be able to relax until she knew Eric's news. Oh she was sure that he had something. He wouldn't press this hard and not have anything. That wasn't how this game was played… and he knew it. And unfortunately he knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't be able to rest until she knew what it was. It gave him a huge advantage.

There was one other good thing about bringing Chuck along. He had been absolutely right this morning. She hadn't wanted to emphasize it in their discussion for obvious reasons, but Eric was almost assuredly going to try and parlay his information and the advantage it gave him into trying to get her naked. For some bizarre reason it seemed to be an obsession with him.

Maybe it was a holdover from his having struck out so many times after those dates years ago. Maybe it was just that alpha males like Eric weren't used to being turned down. But whatever it was, it was getting downright annoying. In fact a direct offer to trade his information for sex wouldn't be unexpected tonight at all. At least Chuck was going to hear every word of her shutting down that ridiculous, nonsensical, and totally insulting notion as brutally as she possibly could. Hopefully it would be therapeutic for him. And she had years of experience responding to being crudely hit on to teach her what words men simply hated to hear. That might be a little fun. So she took a deep breath, stepped up, and knocked on the door.

Sarah was surprised. When the door opened she was looking at a man who was most definitely not Eric, in fact she had never seen him before. "Hello, Agent Walker," the man said. "Please come in. We've been expecting you."

If Sarah's spy instincts were ringing off the hook a second ago, now she was on full alert. The fact that he knew her name told her that something was up. "I'm looking for Eric Gold," she said while making no move to actually enter the room. "Is he here?"

"I'm afraid that Agent Gold has a previous commitment," he said. "My name is Alan. Eric asked me to deliver a message to you. Won't you come in?"

"No thanks," Sarah said calmly. "Why don't you tell me Eric's message and I'll be on my way?"

"It's really not that kind of message," the man said. "It's something that I have to show you. Please come in for a minute."

Agent Walker had always been pretty fearless. All spies were really. It was how they were trained. And even now that she technically wasn't one any longer, Sarah Bartowski was confident that her training, defensive fighting skills, and the half dozen knives that were always strapped to her thigh on a mission could get her out of almost anything. But she also knew better than to enter that hotel room under these circumstances, with some strange man that she had never seen before, even without Chuck screaming it into her ear. "Again, no thanks," she said dismissively. "Have Eric call me if he wants to talk, maybe without the insulting games next time."

When Sarah turned to leave she heard the unmistakable sound of a handgun being racked. When she turned towards the sound, indeed her new friend was pointing a gun at her.

"I'm afraid that I'm going to have to insist," Alan said with something of a smirk. "Agent Gold really wants me to deliver his message. He left me with some instructions that left very little room for interpretation."

There was one very good thing about the dress that Chuck had picked out for her tonight, well besides the way it made his eyes light up when he saw her in it. The long slit was not only sexy; it made it easy to throw a kick. Alan's gun was quickly clanging on the floor. Alan didn't exactly clang when he hit the floor. It was more like a thud. But he quickly followed his gun courtesy of Sarah's second kick which landed flush on his jaw.

Sarah quickly stepped into the room to retrieve his gun that was still lying on the floor. And that's when all hell broke loose. Sarah wasn't sure how many men were hiding there waiting for her. But it was far many more than she could possibly fight.

It's not that she didn't try. Sarah got a couple of real good punches in. Not only that, once two men had her arms pinned she was able to use them as leverage and deliver an absolutely devastating kick to one poor bastard's groin, for all intents and purposes ending his night, and quite possibly his chances for fatherhood. He was rolling around on the floor in agony. Unfortunately, there were more than enough men left to secure her legs. Sarah quickly found herself standing there fairly helpless.

Alan slowly recovered enough to get to his feet. He was still gingerly rubbing his jaw as he faced her. "Agent Walker," he growled. "You really shouldn't have done that."

Sarah could see the backhanded slap coming from a mile away. And she was able to turn her face a little. That slightly lessoned the force of the impact to her cheek. But it still had her seeing stars for a long moment. She could taste the blood from the inside of her lip.

"It was really stupid," Alan said just before he reached back and threw a right uppercut punch directly into Sarah's gut.

Again, Sarah saw the punch coming. It's just that she couldn't do much of anything about it. Four men were holding her firmly in place. So it landed with full force deep into her stomach. All she could do was to try and tense up her muscles as much as possible. But still, the blow knocked the breath, and for the moment anyway, the fight out of her as she struggled to breathe.

Alan just stood there for a long moment gawking at her while she recovered her bearings. "You really are a beautiful woman," he said as he stroked her face with the back of his hand where the red spot was forming from the earlier slap. "No wonder Agent Gold is so angry with you. He wants me to tell you that he expects an apology. Of course that will begin with you talking your husband into cooperating with us. That's a given." Then he took a step back and overtly checked her out. "Yup," he said, more for his men's entertainment than anything. "You are one fine looking woman. It's a shame that we aren't friends."

The laughter that filled the room plainly said that the men were suitably entertained. Sarah had finally recovered enough to speak. "You sick sonofabitch," she groaned. "If you even act like you're getting ready to touch me, I'm going to splatter your brains all over that wall."

The next slap to her face wasn't quite as hard. It certainly wasn't gentle, but was more designed to get her attention. "Really?" Alan asked with a smug grin. "That would be a pretty good trick. You're not really in a position to be making silly threats. I'm in charge here. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to insist that you address me with the deference due. Let's both admit something. If I wanted to touch your more than marvelous body, in any place that I wanted, you'd have no way to stop me. It almost makes me want to call you on it. Maybe that's something you need to think about for a while, so not this time. But trust me, the next time we meet will be even more unpleasant… for you anyway, maybe not so unpleasant for me. We get what we want, Agent Walker. You of all people should know that. The only practical way out of this is to give it to us."

"Are you done playing with your friends so that we can go to dinner? You promised. I'm really hungry. After all, you made me get all dressed up."

When Sarah looked over, Chuck was standing in the open doorway with his hands on his hips. "Chuck, run!" she called. "I mean it! Right now! There's too many of them."

Chuck made no move to run. In fact he just smiled. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friends?" he asked. "I'm actually too hungry to run."

Alan looked over at him. "So," he said. "Mr. Bartowski, I assume. You did come along. I'm frankly surprised. I expected that you would be hiding under your bed at home. This is actually a good thing. Maybe you need to witness the price your wife is going to pay for her disobedience. Once you see her sobbing in pain pleading with us to stop, maybe you'll start to see things our way." Then he indicated with a nod of his head to the four men who weren't holding Sarah and were still upright. The man that Sarah had kicked in the groin was still unavailable, in fact was in the corner currently giving up his lunch. "Bring him over here," Alan said. "Give him something to wipe that smile off his face."

Chuck stood there calmly as the first man running towards him threw an overhand punch aimed at his jaw. To the Intersect, it looked to be coming in slow motion. Chuck allowed the punch to come tantalizingly close. Then at the very last instant, he dodged the blow. He firmly grabbed the wrist that had just whizzed past his face, twisted the arm, and brought his other forearm down directly into his elbow. The sickening crack as the elbow bent in the wrong direction told everybody what had just happened. The man instantly went down in a howling heap.

The next three men that were still running towards him didn't fare any better. In one fluid motion Chuck turned and delivered a back kick to the second man's chest, knocking him flying across the room. As he followed through, he spun and kicked the third man in the side of his knee. Another sickening crack and another agent was on the floor screaming in agony. He ended the night of the fourth man in a more traditional way. An overhand right directly to the point of his chin and it was good night sweet prince.

The fight had lasted about ten seconds so far. Two men joined their friend that Sarah had previously kicked in the groin and was still writhing in agony on the floor, except they were blissfully unconscious. Two others were perhaps still conscious but totally disabled, also moaning in agony, and headed for reconstructive orthopedic surgery followed by lengthy hospital stays and months of rehab.

The four men that were holding Sarah dropped her like a hot potato to go join the fray. That allowed Sarah, who was still clearly smarting and only at about half speed, to grab Alan and keep him from using the gun he had retrieved from the floor.

Chuck could plainly see Sarah wrestling with him for the gun, so he made short work of the four men running at him. Then he calmly stepped over to where Sarah was wrestling and grabbed the gun they were both trying to control. Once he had it pointed at Alan's head, he had no choice but to give up.

Chuck looked in concern at his wife standing there doubled over trying to catch her breath. "Are you okay?" he asked. Seeing her finally recover enough to nod, he took the gun, racked a round into the firing chamber, and handed it to her. "I guess you deserve this one more than I do," he said angrily. "I believe that I heard something about brains spattering against the wall. I'm not totally sure that this moron has any brains. Maybe it's time to find out."

That got a grin in spite of the pain she was still experiencing. It was simply one of those things. Even in this ridiculously tense circumstance in the middle of a battle with her gut on fire he could always make her laugh. "Well," she said thoughtfully. "He really didn't touch me, not like that anyway."

She turned to Alan. "If you had, I would gladly follow through on my promise. But I have a job for you. Allow me to also give you some instructions that leave little room for interpretation. Since you seem to be the messenger boy, go tell Eric that the next time he wants to tell me something maybe he might want to think about saving the stupid roses that are in the trash anyway, manning up, and coming to tell me himself. And about that apology he is looking for, umm, I don't see that happening either."

"You were surprisingly right about one thing. I guess it's true what they say, even a broken clock is correct twice a day. If we ever meet again, it is going to become much more unpleasant. I would suggest that if there is a next time, you might want to consider bringing a lot more men. This simple guy who works in a Buy More just went through eight of your big bads like a hot knife through butter. He's not breathing hard, his tux isn't wrinkled and he's not even sweating. Trust me, he won't be able to say any of those things later tonight when I'm thanking him."

Chuck wasn't in the mood to be quite so generous. "You hit my wife, you stupid sonofabitch," he growled. "She doesn't take threats from creeps promising to molest her very well. In fact I'm not totally sure why she is letting you live. But I promise you something. The next time we meet, be prepared to be staying in the hospital for a long, long time and in multiple casts for months after that."

Sarah then slammed the butt of the gun into the top of Alan's head, knocking him unconscious. "Have a nice day," she said sarcastically. Then she turned to her husband. She had clearly underestimated the power of the Intersect. "That was the most impressive display I've ever seen," she said. "No wonder we've been as successful as a team. Is the Intersect always that powerful?"

Chuck realized that this was the first time that new Sarah had ever seen it in action. But at this point he was far more interested in the pain in her voice. "It's okay," he said dismissively. "It took some time to learn how to control it." He shook his hand a little. "I'm a little rusty. I think I hurt my hand on that one guy's jaw. I'm so out of spy shape." Then he gently touched the red spot on her face. "You're really hurting," he said. "We need to get you out of here. Please let me carry you."

Sarah couldn't help but smile at his concern and the pleading in his voice. Sure she was hurting, especially her stomach. But it was starting to fade. She had certainly taken much worse punishment scores of times in the past. And there was something that surprisingly, Chuck clearly didn't know. Agent Walker would never allow anyone to carry her unless she was convinced that she was physically incapable of walking. That would be a sign of weakness she would never allow. And this situation wasn't anything close to that. But her sexy husband carrying her on the other hand, that sounded kinda nice. "Okay," she said. "I'm fine. Really. But if you want to carry me, that sounds sweet."

Chuck didn't wait around for her to change her mind. He just scooped her up and started walking. "I'm surprised you're letting me carry you," he said. "Thank you for the gesture. Are you sure that you're okay? That would have been a huge hot button for Agent Walker."

Sarah's smile quickly turned into a grin. Of course he knew her every thought. When would she ever stop underestimating him? So she wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled as they stepped into the elevator. "I'm fine," she quickly assured him. "I'm just no longer Agent Walker. My name is Sarah Bartowski. And I think you're going to find there are a lot of things that you thought that you knew about Agent Walker that no longer apply. For one thing, I'm never going to turn down an opportunity to have you carry me. Now if I could only get you to carry me to bed. That would be a fantasy come true."

Chuck ignored her teasing. He took her to the car and opened the passenger door of the Lotus and helped her sit. "Where to?" he asked. "We probably can't go home, right? It's a good thing that we planned ahead and packed bags."

Sarah's head was swimming. Yeah, Chuck was right. They couldn't go home. In fact, they should probably get out of the area altogether as quickly as possible without causing a scene. Who knew what other agents were lurking around? But that wasn't currently at the top of her thinking… at all. "You're driving?" she asked. "Chuck, have you ever driven my car?"

Chuck simply wouldn't be Chuck if he hadn't misinterpreted her intent. "I didn't think you'd be up to driving," he said softly. "I was hoping that you could just sit there and rest for a bit while I drove. I'm sorry. I forgot that you don't remember teaching me how to drive it. If it makes you uncomfortable…"

Sarah's heart simply soared, so much so that the pain went away for a long moment. Okay, so there were things about Agent Walker that had made him feel insecure. Things she felt horrible about. She didn't unpack for a long time. Maybe she didn't tell him that she loved him very often. Yes, she resisted the idea of getting married, wanted to elope, asked him to sign a stupid prenuptial agreement. She still felt guilty about those things.

But she also let him drive her car, not only let him, encouraged him. Anyone who knew Sarah even a little bit would know how huge of a thing that was. It certainly trumped all of those other failures. Now she couldn't wait to see Morgan again and rub his face in it. Sarah allowed him to drive her car. Wow. She buckled her seat belt and placed her hand over his on the stick shift. "Don't be silly," she said as she gave the hand a quick squeeze. "I don't remember, but I'm glad you know how to drive it. It's every bit as much your car as it is mine. You're right. We can't go home."

Chuck started the car and pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway. "With this car, we're only a couple of hours away from Vegas," he said with a grin. "As long as we're on the run again, why can't we do it in luxury? We're already dressed up."

Normally Agent Walker's spy instincts would have had her scoffing at the idea of having fun while they were in danger. But as she thought about it, she found that she couldn't come up with a good objection. This situation was clearly moving much faster than they had hoped. They needed to sit down and carefully plan what to do next. And a luxury suite on the Vegas strip was as good a place to do that as any. They could certainly afford it. Actually Vegas was a perfect place to be on the run. They would blend in, everybody was a stranger there. And if they also had some opportunities to make some new second first honeymoon style memories involving a Jacuzzi and the lights of the strip… well, what was wrong with that? "Okay," she said. "That actually sounds nice."

If Chuck was surprised by her agreement he hid it well. "As soon as we're a ways away from the scene of the crime, we'll stop at a drugstore and pick you up an icepack and some aspirin," he said as his grin turned into a look of concern at the clear look of pain on her face.

"Don't worry, Chuck," Sarah said. "He punched like a pussy. I've been hit a lot harder than that. The pain is fading pretty quickly. I can barely feel it. Let's just get to the hotel."

Chuck knew that she was putting on a brave face for him downplaying the pain. He also knew better than to try and call her on it. So he turned his head to give her another quick glance before returning his eyes to the road. "I hope that this doesn't sound inappropriate under the circumstances," he said. "But I just have to tell you something. You are head and shoulders the most beautiful woman in the world. I'm sorry… I probably don't say that to you nearly enough. You're beautiful no matter what you're wearing. But you look like a goddess in that dress. It simply takes my breath away."

Sarah looked over at her husband. He looked very comfortable driving the car. He had clearly done it more than just a few times. In fact he looked every bit the agent driving that hot sports car in that even hotter tuxedo, very James Bond. It was clear. The romance was his attempt to try to take her mind off the pain. That, more than the compliment, made a thrill run through her in spite of the still tense situation. "Thanks," she said in her teasing voice. "That was very sweet. Don't be sorry. This may be the first time I can remember, but I'm pretty sure you say it plenty. I'll never grow tired of hearing it from you. For the record, you're filling out that tux pretty well yourself. You might want to remember this conversation later tonight when this dress is lying on the floor, I've taken your breath away in a more literal sense, and instead of a goddess you're tempted to call me the devil."

Chuck also quickly realized that she saw through him. All he could do was to join her laugh. "You've got it," he said.

Sarah turned a little more serious. "I've underestimated you again," she said softly. "I seem to be doing that a lot. I'm sorry about that. I've seen plenty of fights. I've seen agents who were very good at it. But you were nothing short of miraculous up there. It was like watching a super hero cartoon. I knew that the Intersect gave you capabilities, but Chuck, I never expected anything like that. No wonder they want it so badly."

Chuck paused for a long moment, so long that Sarah wondered if something was wrong with the car. Maybe he didn't know the way. "I don't know how to say this to you," he finally said. "It might come out wrong. But it's something that I have to say. So give me a minute to get this out, okay?"

Sarah looked at his face in the dark, the only lights coming from the road. He looked so troubled. "What is it, Chuck?" she asked. "You know that you can talk to me about anything."

"I know," Chuck said softly. "But it's just… last night, you were totally right. I haven't been being totally honest with you. That's something I just have to fix. Don't get me wrong. It was nice being a team again tonight. And, Sarah, I'm grateful to the Intersect for bringing us together. I am. And I've loved you almost from the moment I first saw you. I absolutely have. I'd feel terrible if I ever made you question that in any way. For a long, long time the idea of you and me was just too much to hope for. You were this amazing beautiful, bad-ass super spy who speaks seven hundred languages and I was a guy who worked in a Buy More with Jeff and Lester. So I stupidly tried to become what I thought you wanted. I tried to become Bryce, to take over for him when he was killed, to be more like what I thought you wanted in a man. And in doing that I almost lost you. It was a horrible mistake that it took a long time for us to get over. We almost didn't. I hurt you. I broke your heart just when you were starting to genuinely trust that I wouldn't hurt you. I feel so terrible about that. Nobody could have blamed you if you had just told me to go to hell and kept walking. I'm honestly glad that you don't remember it. It's a big reason why I'm so messed up."

Chuck took a long moment to gather his composure.

"But you just have to know," he finally continued. "This past week has been head and shoulders the very best of my life. You came through for me yesterday in a fundamental way, in a way that no one ever has before. You're right. I didn't trust you. You made me see it. I was a lousy husband. I didn't give you a chance to fix things because I just didn't tell you about them, because I was afraid that if I put too much pressure on you, you'd crack and leave me. That was more than insulting, it was beyond stupid."

Chuck paused for another moment again to gather his composure. "I actually started a business as a proxy for a marriage," he finally continued. "You just made me realize that. I'm embarrassed about it. This is not an excuse, and I know that this thought frustrates you. Sarah, I'm not trying to start a fight but you have to know something. You're perfect. You're totally out of my league. You just are, in almost every way that one can imagine. I'm more convinced of that than I ever was."

Chuck responded to her skeptical look with a soft smile. "But in my defense I'm also now more convinced than I ever was that in spite of all that you honestly, truly, completely love me," he said. "I don't know how to begin to thank you for that. Telling you that I worship you seems so weak that it's almost insulting. It just doesn't come close to how I feel about you. I'm sorry. I just don't have the words. But I promise, I'll work hard at being a better husband from now on."

Sarah had to pause for a long moment to gather her own composure. It was clearly the most overtly romantic moment of her life. And actually even his admission, as silly as it was, was nothing but good news. His admitting that he also made horrible mistakes was proof that it was now time to leave the past behind and move forward, for both of them.

"Chuck," she said firmly, but so softly that he had to strain to hear her. "You're not a lousy husband. Stop saying that. Stop thinking it. You have been a wonderful husband, nothing short of amazing through all of this, more than anyone could hope for. And sweetie, why do you think you have to tell me anything? Don't you really think that I know how you feel about me?"

After thinking about it for a moment Chuck nodded and smiled.

"I'm hardly perfect," Sarah said. "In fact without you I'm nobody. I'm nothing but a spy. Ten minutes after my luck finally ran out and I was inevitably killed, nobody would even remember that I ever lived. I get frustrated when you say that I'm out of your league because it's simply not true. You're right. I might be able to speak a lot of languages, but I could never say 'I love you' in any of them. You taught me how to say it. So if anything you're out of my league."

"Maybe we'll just have to agree to disagree on that," Chuck said with the beginnings of a grin.

"Maybe," Sarah agreed. "But don't you understand that it's been the best week of my life too? I don't have to try and tell you how I feel the same way, right? Because I wouldn't have the words any more than you do. And you have absolutely nothing to thank me for. Whatever I did was because I wanted to do it, what I still want to do, what you've been doing for me for so, so long."

"I guess," Chuck sighed. "I'm just so ready for all of this drama to be over. So we can start living our real life."

"Not half as much as I am," Sarah sighed. "But we're still going to be a team, just a different kind of team."

"That's funny," Chuck said. "One time early on I was complaining that we weren't really a couple and you told me that we were a couple, just a different kind of couple. I guess that's still true. We're not a normal team… or couple."

"We're not normal in any way," Sarah agreed. "Whenever we're together, we're extraordinary… in both senses. I'm not totally sure why we're sitting here in this dark car blinking away tears. We're the two luckiest people in the world. We're both young, healthy, ridiculously wealthy, fiercely in love, and going to spend the rest of our lives with our soul mate who just as fiercely is in love with us. We have it all. And the very best part is that this fairy tale is just beginning. We're on our way to Vegas to continue our second first honeymoon. I know that this is hard for you, not exactly in your nature. But maybe it's time to stop trying to analyze what we have to death and just learn to enjoy it. I will if you will. Deal?"

Chuck smiled with a simple nod. She had just nailed him again. He overanalyzed things. He always had. She was more than right. In fact, she was the lucky one. She didn't remember the doubts, the times when it looked hopeless. Maybe it was time to stop worrying about the past that she didn't remember anyway and just enjoy this incredible feeling.

"Can I ask you a question?" she asked as she gave his hand a squeeze. "As long as we're sort of on this topic, why didn't Morgan tell me that I had taught you how to drive my car? He would have had to have known how huge of a deal that was for me to let someone touch my car."

Chuck didn't take his eyes off the road. But that broke whatever heaviness there was in the mood of the car. He couldn't hide the huge grin. "He knew," he said. "He still makes fun of me all the time about how giddy I was the day you suggested it. I'm not sure why he didn't tell you. I suspect that you haven't allowed many men to drive your car."

"Many men?" Sarah asked facetiously. "Nobody has ever driven my car. That single fact should have told you everything that you needed to know."

"Not even Bryce?"

Sarah couldn't help the grin that automatically came to her face. He clearly was still a little jealous of Bryce. It was silly… but it was also cute beyond belief. "He asked once," she said with a laugh. "I don't think he appreciated the way that I laughed at him. He didn't speak to me for a long time after that. Normally your being jealous of Bryce would annoy me. Tonight's it's kinda cute."

Chuck stole a quick glance at her beaming. It would be pointless to try to deny that he was a little jealous, so he changed the subject. "You're in an incredibly good mood given the circumstance," he said. "This car thing is a really big deal to you, isn't it?"

"It really is," Sarah sighed. "The truth is that I was starting to not like old Sarah very much. She didn't treat you very well, didn't give you enough. She was a simply lousy wife. She didn't make enough effort to make sure that you knew how crazy about you she was, to make sure you were happy. She allowed her personal baggage to mess you up. She watched you hurt and didn't do enough about it."

"You're speaking of the woman that I worship," Chuck weakly protested. "Most all you've heard about so far are the bad things. And I just told you that I've made more mistakes than you ever did. So when you're making your rather harsh judgments and calling her lousy, please give her the same benefit of the doubt that I do. She is an amazing creature. So you just can't feel guilty about those things. You did your best under some not so good circumstances. Since we've been together you've always worked triple time to make me feel that you loved me. Whatever issues and insecurities that I may have had back then were far more my doing than yours. Besides, for the past week you've been absolutely perfect, more than I ever dared hope for. I'm afraid that I'm going to wake up and this past week will all have been a really, really good dream."

"That's sweet of you to say," Sarah said. "But the honest truth is that I should have done better. Maybe we both should have. I do feel guilty, just like you do. I'm not going to say that I'm sorry, just like I don't ever want to hear that again from you. I'm just going to be as 'all in' on us as you are. I'm going to work a lot, lot harder at being the wife you need, the one that old Sarah wasn't, the one I want to be. But old Sarah does have one thing going for her. She let you drive her car."

"That has to count for something."

x-x-x-x-x

_A/N: Okay guys, here's the deal. We're both burnt out. It's funny (well, more peculiar than funny) but a single mean-spirited, pointless review mixed in with the dozens of glowing ones takes all the joy out of this. That's sad but true. So while we're not abandoning the story, we're no longer going to keep posting on a regular schedule. We currently have no plans to post the next chapter. It's not going to happen anytime soon. If we find that it is unlikely to ever happen, we may post an epilogue type chapter that sums up what happened._

_We did what we set out to accomplish. We got Chuck and Sarah off that beach and back together, indeed, stronger than they ever were._

_We've now told the Chuck and Sarah love story in every possible way we can think of. It's time to move on. Since this marks the end of our Chuck fanfic careers, we'd like to say a big 'Thank You' to all of you who supported us, both individually and as a team. We appreciate it. _

x-x-x-x-x


	11. The Second First Honeymoon

_We don't own Chuck. Actually, we don't own much of anything. _

_Yes, the story goes on… sort of._

_The way that BrickRoad and I work is that I would write the chapter and pass it to her. She would go through it and make changes. She rarely made changes that impact the plot in any significant way. Mostly she softened dialog and did things to make the characters more in line with how she saw them. Then I would read her changes and, if I disagreed with anything, we'd talk about it until we both were comfortable._

_The reason that I bring this up is to point out that the process was very time consuming. Making one author happy with a storyline is hard enough. Making two happy is, well, harder, lol. But the end product was better so it was worth it._

_Anyway, we no longer have the time or energy to go through that long process. But we also didn't want to abandon the story. So we decided that I would post the rest of the chapters in whatever state in that process they happened to be. The story is completely written in that BillAtWork POV and has been for a long time. It would be a shame if nobody read it._

_So, what does that mean to you? Besides having to suffer through this incredibly long A/N? Well, in some parts of the story, the tone may feel a little different because BR wasn't able to apply her magic. Hopefully, this is better than nothing. But, I'll leave that to your individual judgment._

_And while I'm ranting, yes, part of Eric Gold's motivation is to get the thing from Sarah that he thinks she owes him. And, yes, I understand that some of you have grown weary of that plotline. Trust me, I get that. If you're one of those people, this would be the point where you should stop reading with no hard feelings… or forfeit your right to complain about it. I'm not up to having to defend myself any longer on this issue. And I'm not going to change. For the record, this story is all about the ongoing love story. The mission is actually pretty irrelevant. It only exists to get Chuck and Sarah closer in a way they never were before and to decide what they want to do going forward._

_Okay. Fair warning. There is a sex scene in this chapter that goes a little farther than anything we've done before (don't worry, it's not smut or very explicit, at least I don't think so, probably still comfortably T). I understand that some of you might not be 100% comfortable with it. But when I wrote it I was pretty confident that Brickroad would cut most of it anyway. That didn't happen, lol. I think it's pretty steamy. But just for the record, it's not as gratuitous as it first seems. Please read the whole chapter before you judge it. There is a point and it fits in with the story. And if it helps at all, it is Chuck and Sarah doing the sex thing, lol._

_If you enjoyed this or any of the stories on this site, please take a second and send the author a review. It only takes a second – and it really, really makes a difference. That's probably more important than ever now that the series has ended. If you want to keep the Chuck fandom alive and continue to read about these characters, you really need to think about rewarding the people whose hard work make that possible._

**The Second First Honeymoon**

x-x-x-x-x

There were some things that Sarah Bartowski already knew about her husband. Well, lot's of things really. He was incredibly cute, amazingly sweet, hilariously funny, generous to a fault, and simply downright charming. What she hadn't known until tonight was how different he was after a few glasses of champagne. Oh he was still cute, sweet, funny, generous, and charming, perhaps even more so. The difference was that he was now also overtly romantic.

Well, maybe it wasn't totally the champagne. It started when they were waiting to check in just after they had been handed their first glass. He stood behind her with his arms firmly around her waist and nuzzled her neck. That was a huge change. Chuck had yet to make a single romantic overture even when they were behind closed doors. He always seemed content to hang back and wait for her to make the first move.

Sarah was torn about that. A big part of her totally enjoyed being in charge of their sex life, more than she ever thought she would. And to be fair, once she got the ball rolling Chuck had never once failed to enthusiastically step up. But she also had this vague worry that he wasn't as comfortable as he probably should be initiating things. In fact the only thing that Sarah could remember was that one kiss this morning in the week since they had been back together. She couldn't even imagine him being aggressive in public. For goodness sake, he blushed when she looped her arm through his at the airport yesterday. But tonight he was a wild man. Well, a wild man for Chuck anyway. He was plainly taking this second first honeymoon thing to heart.

Not that Sarah was complaining at all. No. No. A thousand times no. For one thing, this was Vegas. They certainly weren't the only couple virtually necking on that dance floor. For another she simply loved seeing him like this. He was cute and funny and confidently sexy and… well, exciting beyond belief. If he had looked like James Bond earlier in the car, now he was even acting the part. Besides that, Sarah had tipped back at least as many glasses of champagne as her clearly tipsy husband. And while she was perhaps a little more accustomed to handling it, she was feeling pretty darned relaxed herself.

It had been an odd night… odd, but purely magical. Oh it didn't start off that well. Sarah could still feel a little of the soreness where the bruise was forming on her stomach from that cowardly punch. But since then, everything had been simply perfect.

First Chuck had rather unexpectedly rescued her. Sarah never liked to think of herself as a damsel in distress. In fact the surest way to start a fight with her would be to suggest that she wasn't capable of protecting herself, something that Bryce had found out the hard way more than once. Agents were trained to depend on their own skills. But she had to admit. Watching him blow through those eight men in her defense was pretty darned exciting… on a couple of different levels. Sure, she was very proud of him on a professional level. Now all those mission reports made a lot more sense. But on a personal level it was also something of a huge turn-on. In fact it was pretty close to one of her most common fantasies.

At first Sarah was a little resistant to the idea of going off to Vegas to have a wild night. They were clearly in danger. And Agent Walker rarely allowed herself the luxury of having fun under normal circumstances, much less in the middle of what was now clearly a mission.

But after thinking about it, she really couldn't bring herself to object. She wasn't Agent Walker any longer. And even Agent Walker would have had to admit that Vegas was a perfect place to hide. Chuck assured her that before Casey left he had already helped him prepare alternate identities for them with plenty of resources available… for just this sort of contingency. So they didn't have to worry about being tracked by their credit cards. They really weren't in any imminent danger. There was nothing they could do tonight anyway. And their problems would still be there tomorrow to deal with. Besides, she couldn't help but feel that this could be great. It would be the perfect place to show him that she was still going to fawn over him… and maybe find a gentle way to let him know that it was okay for him to ask for things too.

The two hour drive to Vegas seemed much shorter, what with Chuck being so sweet and romancing her until they both were blinking away happy, joyful tears. Then he switched the mood and made her laugh pretty much the whole rest of the way. It was he who suggested that they treat tonight like the official beginning of their second first honeymoon. But it was Sarah who correctly pointed out that the beginning of any honeymoon was a wedding night. So that was pretty exciting, for both of them really. Sarah didn't remember a single thing about their real wedding night. But obviously Chuck did. And he kept her in stitches teasing her about all the outrageous, sexy, and clearly made up things she did to make that night special for him. He promised that this time it would be his turn to make it special for her… and that he would get just as outrageous.

That clearly started with the luxury suite in Vegas. This being ridiculously rich thing sure had its perks. It was on the very top floor of the newest hotel on the Vegas Strip. The floor to ceiling windows provided a breathtaking view of the lights. The poster bed actually looked bigger than their whole bedroom at home. Of course it had all the amenities one would expect from such a high roller suite. There were fresh flowers and fruit everywhere you looked, a full bar, and a plasma television that covered one whole wall. But the best feature was the hot tub that could have accommodated a small army, built in right next to window facing the strip. Of course it should be nice. A single night cost about double their monthly rent payment back home.

Sarah was seriously tempted to just order some dinner from room service, hang the dress that Chuck liked so much on a hanger in the closet in a spot where he could always see it, and get this second first wedding night thing off to a rousing start. But she knew that Chuck was looking forward to going downstairs and showing his girl a good time. And it would be a shame to waste this opportunity with them already being so dressed up. Boasting wasn't really his personality. But if he thought that people noticed that the sexy blonde in the incredible dress was with him, well he probably wouldn't mind too awful much. It was hard to fault him for that.

Sarah was definitely going to make sure that they did notice. It was even more than that. She was going to make sure every single person that saw them together understood how head over heels she was by putting a doe eyed expression on her face and hanging on his arm all night. She actually felt the same way about him. After all she wasn't kidding earlier when she told him that he filled out that tux well. So as soon as they checked in she spent some time in the vanity making sure that the red spot on her cheek from that earlier slap was covered with power and that her hair and makeup were extra perfect for him.

Besides, staying in was probably moot anyway. They weren't in the room for five minutes before the hotel manager himself was knocking on the door thanking them for visiting them, asking if there was anything that they needed, and inviting them to a party at the private club.

Dinner was simply wonderful. Chuck made sure they picked a place that offered her beloved lobster with drawn butter and twice baked potato. It wasn't a night for cheeseburgers. They were both pretty hungry. It was after nine and they hadn't eaten since lunch, so they didn't have much time for conversation. But it also felt great to just relax, eat a marvelous meal, and simply enjoy each other's comfortable company without the need to constantly talk for a while. Chuck attacked his filet with a fervor that Sarah hadn't really seen before. Then again, it was hard to pay much attention. She was pretty busy with her huge lobster.

But the best part of the night so far was plainly the private party. Chuck obviously knew how much she loved to dance. And in that sizzling hot backless black satin dress that suggestively showed off her figure as she bounced around the dance floor, she was clearly the sexiest thing that club had seen in… well, maybe forever as she got into that zone that really only happened when she was dancing. Chuck was great at keeping up with her… for a long while. But he definitely underestimated the energy that the music and champagne were giving her. She was clearly in better cardio-vascular shape than he was. So after a couple of hours he eventually needed a break.

The staff was clearly going out of their way to make sure that their new rich patrons had a good time, constantly bringing over other couples to introduce. In the private, well to do party atmosphere Sarah had already politely turned down several requests to dance from other men, as had Chuck from other women. But finally Chuck insisted. He told her that he was dedicated to making this her fantasy night, she loved to dance, she was in the zone, and the least he could do was to put aside his stupid petty jealousy and watch her have fun. After all, dancing was an innocent activity. And he reminded her of what she had told him earlier about Eric Gold. When she was in her zone, it really didn't matter who she was dancing with. Besides, he told her that he was going to enjoy the view of watching the most beautiful woman in the world bouncing around that dance floor, quite literally, from a calm vantage point. And that he was looking forward to the sexy show she was about to put on for him. He actually winked as he encouraged her to make it a good one for his benefit.

All those things might have been true but Sarah still wasn't totally convinced. Then again, how could she really argue with him? Chuck's calm confidence might have been unexpected, but it was also a huge, huge, massive turn on. Although perhaps he hadn't completely thought through the fact that whatever show she was about to give him, she would also be giving to every other man in the place. He hadn't indicated that he had even noticed the men checking her out as she danced… and some of them were fairly un-subtle.

He clearly must have noticed. He would have had to be blind not to. But was he really now so confident that it no longer mattered? That would be a fantastic turn of events. Still Sarah was wary. The last thing she wanted to do was to send the wrong signal to some macho guy who had tipped back one too many drinks of his own and have him ruin this night by making a stupid pass at her… or assuming that she was one of the several high class pros plainly currently in the room and asking her to meet him someplace later.

By definition, every man in the room was wealthy… and wealthy men, not unlike agents, were very aggressive and used to getting the women in bed that they wanted. Chuck must have realized that too. But he really didn't give her much room to protest. He was insistent. So she finally caved in and gave him his needed breaks and danced with a few of the guys. But she always made sure she picked men who didn't try and look down her dress, had dates of their own, made sure they got a real good look at her wedding ring, and knew the situation by giving her 'newlywed' husband a big kiss first. She also made sure to pick a spot on the dance floor where Chuck had a great view of her.

Sarah had to admit, she felt pretty damn sexy out there performing for him, how much actually surprised her a little. And a performance is clearly what it ultimately became. Her dance partner was quickly forgotten as she put on the best show for her husband that she possibly could. She eventually realized that she had never felt like this before. Oh, she had certainly danced for men before with every intention of arousing them. But this was the first time she genuinely wanted him burning with desire so much that she herself became on fire. His calm relaxed smile watching her perform for him just made her try even harder.

It was actually more than just feeling sexy. It was more of an erotic experience. And certainly none of the other men in the club came forward to complain. The first couple of times she had to shoo away a woman or two sitting at the table with him when she returned after her dance / performance. But quickly enough they figured it out and left him alone.

Finally even Sarah had had enough dancing for one night. She was on the floor for a rare slow dance with her arms wrapped firmly around the neck of her guy. Chuck was such an excellent dancer. Actually her new James Bond was the most smooth and confident of any man in the room as they effortlessly spun around the floor. She had done a very good job at teaching him. In fact, the honest truth was that he was receiving at least as many wistful looks from the women as she was from the men. Sarah looked into their eyes. She could see that look as they ogled him. It was clear that had Chuck wanted to, he could have gone upstairs with any number of women tonight. She finally decided to let it go, that if Chuck was willing to set aside his jealousy, maybe she could bite her tongue as well… for tonight anyway.

Sarah had been ready to take him upstairs and start ripping his clothes off for some time now. But it was an entirely different kind of dancing… his tongue dancing with hers that had her knees suddenly weak and was definitely ramping up her excitement level close to her red line. Come to think about it, he was pretty darn good at that kind of dancing as well. "Thank you for the perfect night," she said as the latest kiss broke. "Was our real wedding night this much fun? It's been magical."

Chuck grinned. "Hopefully it's not over yet," he said. "We still have to make a memory for you. This is your fantasy night. Let me know when you're ready to go upstairs and I'll prove it to you."

That's all that Sarah needed to hear. "I'm ready right now," she said.

"Are you sure?" Chuck asked. "Trust me, all the men in the place will be very sad to see you go. Besides, it's okay to dance for as long as you want. I know that you love this and don't get enough chances to do it. I think I caught my second wind. After all, I'm not kidding. This is your night."

"I'm ready," Sarah insisted. "I have been for a while. Let's see if we can put that second wind to good use."

x-x-x-x-x

Once they were in the hallway, Chuck scooped her up in his arms. "What?" he asked in response to her surprised look. "You said earlier that you wanted me to carry you to bed. Well, this is your night."

But he didn't put her down on the bed. He placed her standing right next to it. "This is your night," he said. "So it's time for me to step up a little and give it to you. I think I know exactly what you want. We both know what that means. I'm currently in charge. That is if you're not all talk."

It was odd. There was really no hint in his face that he was teasing. If fact it was more relaxed and confident than she had ever seen him. And whatever he meant by in charge, it was making her knees weaker by the second. But when she went to tell him that she sure as hell wasn't all talk, he stopped her with a single finger to her lips.

"A nod will do," he said.

Sarah quickly nodded. But when she went to put her arms around him to kiss him, he shook his head, grabbed her hands, and gently but firmly placed them behind her back and had her clasp them together. Then he leaned in and kissed her. At first he kept his hands around the back of her head, pressing her mouth to his. But quickly enough he allowed one hand to drift slowly back to her front, then down to her breast. He massaged it not all that gently through her dress for a long while as they continued kissing.

As soon as he broke the last kiss he calmly took off his jacket, went and grabbed a chair, placed it in front of her backwards, and straddled it to watch. "You really do like bad boys don't you Agent Walker?" he asked rhetorically. "There is something that we need to get straight. Let's face it. You're completely mine tonight. You know it and I know it. Let's face some facts. You're dying to find out what happens next. Isn't that right?"

Sarah wasn't sure what was up with the bad boys thing. And calling her Agent Walker? But everything else was clearly true. So she nodded.

"You love to put on a show, don't you, Agent Walker?" he asked, again totally rhetorically. "You proved that over and over pretty convincingly on the dance floor tonight, showing off how sexy you could be. Let's see some of that body you're so proud of. Take your right hand and unfasten your dress for me. Then return it to its place." The matter of fact tone of his voice clearly said that it wasn't a request.

A spy was trained to not ever allow their face to show surprise. But Sarah was admittedly a little surprised. The question of what he meant by in charge was now clearly answered. But this wasn't like Chuck. She had never seen the look that was currently on his face. But there was no question as to who was in charge. There was also no question as to how on fire she currently was. So she did just as he instructed. She took her hand and reached behind her neck where the strap of her backless dress was fastened. Thankfully it was behind her so he couldn't see the tremble from her excitement. Once she had deftly unsnapped the dress and returned the hand to her back as he specified, gravity did the rest of the work and the front slowly slid down to her waist.

Chuck took a long moment and overtly ogled her now bare chest as he undid his tie and calmly unbuttoned his own shirt. "Not bad," he said. "Take it off for me."

It didn't take long. All she had to do was push the dress over her hips and step out of it as it lay bunched on the floor. As soon as she silently complied he smiled confidently. "Be honest," he said. "This is exactly what you were thinking about when you were dancing earlier. Why don't you keep going? Do it slowly, hopefully don't look quite so serious. Maybe smile a little for me. After all, this is what you want, isn't it? Sell it."

Wow. Talk about unexpected. She had already given him a show downstairs dancing. But if Chuck now wanted a private show of a different nature, well Sarah wasn't in the mood to deny him. He was going to get a good one, the very best she could deliver. She wasn't aware that she looked so serious. But she made sure to look him directly in the eyes as she smiled sweetly, calmly reached down, and conspicuously unsnapped the snaps of her garters one by one. She took off the knives that were still strapped to her thigh and dropped them to the floor. Then she hooked her thumbs inside her panties and, as slowly and seductively as she could, slid them down her legs, leaving her standing there in only her garter, stockings, and heels.

Chuck reached out his hand. His meaning was clear. So she reached down, grabbed her panties from the floor where she had just stepped out of them and handed them to him. "Sarah Walker's panties," he said, more to himself with something of an odd smile. "This is something to go into the trophy case." Then he nodded to her. "You may continue."

_Trophy Case? Again with the Sarah Walker thing?_ But there was really nothing to do except play this out. Besides, he was right, she was dying to find out what he had planned next. And she was as on fire as she ever had been in her life, nothing else was even close. The weakness in her knees was making it hard to stand. She took off the garter belt and was about to sit down on the bed to roll her stockings down when Chuck stopped her. "Not yet," he said. "Turn around for me. Slowly."

Once she had done as he asked, Chuck stopped her. "That'll do," he said as he stood up to face her. "For now anyway. I like that look on you. The body is marvelous, every bit as good as your reputation." He pressed his mouth to hers and quickly their tongues were dancing.

Sarah again was surprised at how confident Chuck was being. _That look?_ She was naked except for her smoke colored nylon stockings and heels. _Reputation?_ _What did that mean?_ _And marvelous?_ He'd certainly seen her naked hundreds of times. They had just showered together a few hours ago, getting ready for the mission. He'd rather vigorously rubbed body wash over every single square inch of her 'marvelous' body, and some rather key strategic square inches, ones that he obviously wanted to ensure were extra clean, more than once. They would probably have considered blowing off the mission and still be in there playfully exploring each other if they hadn't run out of hot water. But surprisingly, when she put her hands around his head as was her norm when they were kissing, he broke the kiss, grabbed her hands, and placed them firmly by her either side before he resumed the, what was now pretty intense second base necking.

He really didn't push her onto the bed. He just moved forward into her until she was forced to sit. But he did firmly guide her to lay back, grabbed her hands, and returned them to her side with a look that told her to keep them there. He placed a finger over her lips and whispered seductively in her ear. "We can stop this now if you'd like. Are you ready to stop?"

Once he saw her quickly vigorously shake her head he grinned at her. "I didn't think so," he said. "But if we go on you need to admit something to me. You're totally my plaything tonight, to do with whatever I wish. Is that you want, Agent Walker?"

It took a while for Sarah to nod. But she finally realized though the fog of her burning desire that he was expecting a response.

Finally seeing her nod, Chuck started kissing at her neck and oh so slowly started moving south, pausing for a long moment to pay attention to each of her breasts. It didn't take long at all until they were both standing fully at attention. When he finally got to her stomach, he stood and pulled her legs until her bottom was to the very edge of the bed, slowly guided her knees apart, and paused for a long moment to admire his handiwork before continuing. Then he knelt on the floor in front of her and began kissing frustratingly slowly up the inside of her thighs starting at the top of her stocking. Finally, at long last, there wasn't any farther north to go.

Tonight certainly wasn't the first time that Chuck had performed this particular activity for her, even in the past few days since they were back together. In fact, it was Sarah's favorite part of their love making. She had quickly become conditioned to expect it, to look forward to it, even to more than once rather shyly ask him for it. And he was always more than happy to accommodate her. This was something that he plainly enjoyed as much as she did, if that was possible. He had clearly put in many hours of practice learning what she wanted, had obviously become very, very, very good at it, and just as obviously knew it. He had clearly learned over the years exactly where her hot buttons were, what drove her crazy, how to get her to the very edge, and then slow down and keep her helplessly there at that edge for as long as he wanted. But tonight was different. All of the other times had been sweet, gentle, loving. They were clearly a husband patiently, slowly, almost playfully showing his wife how much he enjoyed giving her pleasure.

But what he was currently doing was not like that at all. It was completely different, courser, almost a little on the rough side. It almost felt like the beginning of an attack. But it was also extremely effective. She really had no choice but to lay there helplessly trying to keep from moaning while her arms were effectively pinned at her sides. She could feel him pushing her knees even farther apart to give himself total access and then slowly but steadily stoking the inferno between her legs, building it to the point where Sarah was now well into uncharted territory. Indeed she was quickly losing the ability for rational thought. She desperately wanted to put her hands on his head, to press his lips and tongue to her even harder… but she knew she had to follow his unspoken instructions. So she grabbed two handfuls of bedspread and kept her hands where he had firmly placed them. She settled for arching her back and pressing herself into him as best she could.

There was no question but that Chuck knew exactly what he was doing. He eventually had her senses stimulated to the very edge. But just before she crossed the line, he abruptly stopped and stood up. He again stepped back and calmly admired his handwork for a long moment as she waited there, not so calmly, making no effort to move from that totally submissive position, basically naked with her legs spread far apart, totally available for whatever he had planned next. Her eyes were closed, hands obediently not moving from her side, her perfect chest quickly rising and falling as she panted to catch her breath. "Are you ready to continue?" he finally asked as he slowly and conspicuously making a statement, unbuckled his belt.

Sarah quickly opened her eyes and, remembering his earlier instruction, nodded her head.

"I'm afraid that I need to hear you say it this time," he teased. "Who is in charge?"

"Yes, I'm ready," she whispered. "You are."

"I'm sorry," Chuck said. "I didn't quite hear you."

"Chuck," Sarah moaned now in frustrated unconditional surrender as she closed her eyes again. "You're in charge. Just please…don't leave me like this."

Fortunately the tone of absolute surrender in her voice was enough for him. Finally she could thankfully feel him begin to firmly press himself into her. Again, they had done this approaching double digit times already in the past couple of days, and probably hundreds of times over the past two years that she couldn't remember. But this was totally different from anything that Sarah had ever experienced before… with anybody really, but certainly not with Chuck. You couldn't call this making love. It wasn't close to that, not patient and gentle and loving like all the times before. This was pure animal lust, on both of their parts really. Chuck started off slowly, almost teasing her at first. As he picked up speed all Sarah could do was to move her hips in rhythm to his powerful animal thrusts and try to make this incredible feeling last as long as she possibly could.

But as he continued relentlessly slamming into her, the long thrusts were coming ever harder and faster. So she arched her back again and did her best to match him, thrust for ever more powerful thrust. And every single one brought Sarah closer and closer to the edge of inevitability, of succumbing to the raging fire that now had her openly moaning, no longer caring where she was or who heard her clear helplessness. She wasn't even sure how long it lasted, maybe hours, maybe seconds. In fact all of her senses faded. All she could feel was the consuming fire, the pure intense electricity flowing from him as he pounded his white hot fire into her over and over and over again, ever harder and ever faster. She knew that she was getting oh so close to the edge of a tremendous explosion… and that she had never ever come close to this feeling before.

Even though Sarah was fighting with everything she had to make this incredible electric feeling last as long as humanly possible, finally she couldn't hold out against the intensity of his fire any longer. She couldn't help the wordless cry of passion that came out of her lips as she finally gave in and the climax overpowered her. All she could do was to dig the heels of her shoes into the carpet, use that as leverage, and lay there helplessly straining against him with every fiber while he continued to pound away even harder and faster until wave after powerful wave after even more wonderfully powerful wave washed over her, drowning her in absolute pleasure, totally consuming her, filling her world.

It probably only lasted a couple of minutes. But Sarah now had no way of knowing. Finally she returned to the living enough to hear him moan and feel his release among her last batch of sweet lingering spasms. He eventually collapsed onto her in total exhaustion. They both lay there trying to catch their respective breaths for several minutes. One thing was now clear.

This second first honeymoon was off to an unexpected start.

x-x-x-x-x

"You have got to be kidding me!" Eric Gold shouted in frustration. "You're going to stand there and tell me that Sarah Walker and that simpleton husband of hers blew through ten trained agents, put three of them in the hospital, and then disappeared into the fucking night without a trace? How is that possible?"

Alan wasn't really in the mood to take much more crap from anybody tonight. He'd already had a long night. His head was still throbbing from where Sarah knocked him unconscious. He took the ice pack off his head long enough to turn and glare at him. "It was him," he said sullenly. "We had Walker totally secured. I've never seen anything close to that. Bartowski was moving so fast that our men had no chance to even move. He had eight on them on the ground before you could even turn your head. We could have had twice as many men in that room and it wouldn't have made a bit of difference. He must have taken some training that we're not aware of."

Eric looked at Alan like he had just sprouted a third eye. "It's the Intersect, moron," he said dismissively. "Bartowski clearly has re-uploaded the Intersect. Did they say anything to you?"

"She called me a messenger boy," Alan growled. "She's going to pay for that. She said that next time you should save the stupid roses, man up, and talk to her yourself. She said that the apology you were expecting wasn't going to happen."

"She did, did she?" Eric asked derisively. "We'll just see about that. If Bartowski is truly the Intersect again, it's more important than ever that we secure his cooperation."

"Just how are we going to do that?" Alan asked sarcastically. "We don't even know where they are."

That got a grim smile. "We don't have to," Eric said. "They'll come crawling to us. You see, they both have fatal weaknesses. His is Walker. Once we have her in our pocket, he'll do anything she asks of him. Hers… well let's just say that she'll be begging me to accept her apology. Assemble your pathetic men that are still fit for duty."

Alan nodded. "Yes, sir," he said. "What are we going to do?"

Eric smiled. "I'm done screwing around," he said.

"It's time to turn up the heat."

x-x-x-x-x

Sarah sat in the bubbling hot tub looking out at the lights. A chilled glass of champagne sat on the ledge next to the bowl of untouched fresh strawberries. Chuck was sitting next to her… also untouched. Other than his asking if she wanted to get in the tub, they hadn't said a single word since their… um… session.

Sarah was perhaps looking at the lights of the strip, but she wasn't really seeing them. She was far too wrapped up in her thoughts. Honestly she was confused, a little about Chuck maybe, but a whole lot about herself. She would never have admitted this to anyone. But before meeting Chuck, Agent Walker's biggest fantasy would have been for some smooth, strong, handsome alpha male, some nameless, faceless James Bond type to rescue her from a dangerous situation, romance her for an evening of dinner, champagne, and dancing, drag her to bed, and simply give her no choice as he totally and completely ravaged her. It was a purely imaginary vision that had gotten her through a lot of pretty lonely nights.

And if she wanted to admit it or not, that's exactly what Chuck had just made happen. And she also had to admit, just a few short minutes ago she was totally under his control, lying there completely submissive to him, would have willingly done anything he asked. That was a first time experience for her. It was also the most intense electric moment she had ever experienced. She was lying there helplessly begging him while he seemingly effortlessly brought her to easily, by an indescribable margin, the most powerful orgasm of her whole life.

But the confusing part was that, for a lifelong fantasy come amazingly, erotically, vividly true, she now wasn't feeling all that good about it. It wasn't guilt. It was something else. The past few days had been easily the best of her life. Indeed, she felt like her life was just beginning. And a large part of that was the gentle love making she was experiencing with him for the first time in her life. And whatever you would call what had just happened on that bed, it wasn't love making. And yes, sure she wanted Chuck to feel more confident in the physical department. She wanted him to feel comfortable taking the lead whenever he was in the mood. She would even be there for him when he was in the mood to play a bit, even to be in control. But there was also the nagging feeling that she wasn't sure she was ready to trade the wonderful loving and tenderness of the past few days for the hot, raw, powerful, animal sex he had just pounded into her, no matter how electric it was.

The problem was that she didn't know how to even begin to talk to him about this stuff. That confident, aggressive James Bond person is sort of what she had been pleading with him to become more like, at least that's how he could have well interpreted it. The very, very last thing that she wanted was to bring back any of his insecurities. But she also didn't want him to change. She sure didn't want him to lose any of the sweetness that made him her Chuck. But it was also hard to argue that what had just happened wasn't great. It surely was, just different. Maybe it would be best to just keep her mouth shut and go with it… for a while anyway. After all, maybe this was just a phase he was going through. Maybe he would eventually…

"Was it everything that you expected?"

Once Sarah interrupted her puzzled thoughts enough to realize that he was speaking to her, she saw his classic silly grin.

"I tried my best to make it everything you described," Chuck said. "I hope it was an okay second first wedding present. Hopefully, it wasn't a letdown. A lifetime of imagination is a pretty tall order to match. Then again, you were moaning pretty good. I'm afraid that acting like that doesn't come very naturally to me. I did my best."

For a long time Sarah could only stare at him in wonder. Equal waves of relief and shame swept over her as the realization hit between her eyes. When would she ever stop underestimating this incredible man? He had just put on a show for her. He wasn't drunk at all. That was what he meant downstairs when he over and over referred to tonight as her fantasy night. He had put aside his discomfort with public affection just to make it more exciting. That's also why he had insisted that she dance with other men with no hint of jealousy. He didn't need a break at all. He was trying to make the mood perfect. That's why he called her Agent Walker time after time. That wasn't Chuck and Sarah Bartowski on that bed at all. It was James Bond and Agent Walker. Only he hadn't really turned into James Bond. He had just pretended, played a role. He had become the smooth, strong, confident, alpha male for her.

He had just gone a hundred miles out of his comfort zone to deliver to his wife the most erotic of her fantasies, with the one man in the whole world she loved and trusted enough for it to actually work. Like most fantasies, it was impossible to imagine it ever really happening. Even if James Bond was a real person, he wouldn't have had a chance to get Agent Walker in bed, and she certainly never would have considered for a single second actually submitting to any man like that. Not being in control was Agent Walker's least favorite thing. But her loving husband, that was completely different.

And it was a fantasy that only Chuck would even know anything about, because he knew every intimate detail about her. And that realization changed everything. It instantly totally turned her mood around. It was now the best gift she had ever been given. Not only that, but you wouldn't do something like that unless you were completely confident it was going to go well. That was the best part. Chuck had just said, louder than any amount of words possibly could, that he worshiped her, was eager to do whatever it took to make her happy. Not only that, he was now comfortable with her, with their future.

Sarah jumped into his arms so quickly that it splashed quite a bit of water over them. "It was incredible," she said as soon as the series of long loving kisses broke. "You were perfect. It was the most intense moment of my life. I actually believed it was happening. I couldn't figure out why you were calling me Agent Walker. I was actually starting to worry that you had really changed into James Bond. Chuck, listen to me for a second. No matter how erotic that was, look, I know that I've been on you to become more confident. But I really don't want you to ever change. I love what I have."

"I know," Chuck said. "You don't have to worry about that. I tried to become that guy for real once… and I almost lost you. It's never happening again."

"Good," Sarah said with a grin. "My panties for your trophy case? What's up with that?"

"It seemed like the thing to say," Chuck said with a laugh. "I wonder if men like that actually do have a trophy case to record their conquests, with a row of panties hanging on hooks. That's pretty weird, isn't it?"

That got them both laughing. "It's totally weird," Sarah said. "Somehow I always pictured that as a more figurative thing."

"Probably," Chuck admitted. "It just came out. I hope that didn't spoil anything."

"It didn't spoil anything," Sarah said. "You were perfect. Thank you for the effort. James Bond can be in charge of Agent Walker any time he wants… as long as we're just playing."

"You're very welcome," Chuck said. "It was… different. I'm glad that you enjoyed it. But honestly I actually prefer the way it's been when you're in charge. That's more us, don't you think?"

"Yes," Sarah said truthfully. "I really do. I'm very glad that you think so too. But I have to admit, that was beyond incredible. I really wouldn't mind you surprising me with something like that again every once in a while. Maybe I'll even buy you a trophy case for your birthday to hold the conquest panties… as long as you promise me that there will always only be a single woman's panties hanging there."

That got his face red. And that fact plainly told her that her Chuck was back, had never really left. "Of course," he said. He was clearly embarrassed by her teasing.

"Good answer," Sarah said playfully. "That was pretty wild. Tell me, have we ever done anything like that before?"

"No," Chuck said. "Not close to that. We've talked about it a few times. Just talking about it was usually enough to get you pretty revved up. There haven't been too many opportunities for me to actually rescue you. It's usually been the other way around. So about six months ago we decided that the next time it ever happened, if we got the chance we'd play it out. I'm sorry if it took you by surprise."

That got a grin. "Don't be sorry," she said playfully. "It was the surprise that made it so exciting." Then she paused for a moment. "Have we talked about a fantasy of yours?"

"Of course," Chuck said with his own grin. "We're still waiting for the right circumstance." He paused for a long moment. "Can I ask you a question? Did any of the men that you danced with tonight… um… did any of them make a move on you?"

There was the slightly jealous Chuck that she loved. How cute was that? "Just one," she said in mock seriousness. "Most of them were intimidated by the fact that I was constantly waiving my wedding ring in their face. But this one guy actually invited me to go upstairs with him. It's the first time in my life that I've ever done anything like that. But I just couldn't stop myself. He was the sexiest man I've ever seen. Once we were in his room, he totally ravished me. I think he said that his name was James Bond."

Chuck's look of concern quickly dissolved into embarrassed relief as he realized she was teasing him.

That caused her wheels to start turning. Sarah actually felt a little embarrassed herself. She had to admit something to herself. She had absolutely no clue what Chuck's special circumstance might be. And for someone who was trained to know what men wanted, especially someone who claimed to know his every thought… that was pretty unacceptable. She thought about how she could find out what it was without having to break down and actually ask him. He would tease her about that incessantly. But whatever this fantasy was he was surely about to see it happen… as soon as she could find out what it was anyway. Maybe a bluff would work. "We have to make it happen," she said. "Do you think that maybe you could give me a couple of days? That way I can prepare, make this circumstance happen, and do it right. After all, you just put a lot of effort into making mine real. That's the least I can do."

If Sarah's goal was to find out Chuck's fantasy and avoid being teased about it forever, well she had just failed miserably. Chuck's grin broadened. "I see," he said in his teasing voice. "You don't have a clue what it is, do you? It's really bugging you. That's sort of a fantasy fulfilled on its own. Some professional seductress you turned out to be."

Sarah didn't respond. But her face immediately turned red. So Chuck quickly let her off the hook. "This is still your night," he said. "Is there something else I can do for you?" He reached under the water and rubbed up her thigh suggestively… and she immediately shifted to give him easy access to go as high as he wanted. "It doesn't necessarily have to be sex," he said playfully. "Maybe you want to go back downstairs and hit the casino, or maybe go back to the club and dance some more, although we are already naked. It seems a shame to waste that."

"A big shame," Sarah agreed softly as she leaned in to kiss him gently. "I've had the oldest fantasy of my life realized by James Bond himself tonight. It was pretty wild. Now how about my newest biggest fantasy? To go over to that huge bed, actually get between the sheets, and be slowly and lovingly seduced by Chuck Bartowski, my soul mate, the unquestioned love of my life, then fall asleep in his arms?"

Chuck just grinned. "I'm not sure I know how to be him," he said playfully. "I'll do my best but…"

"James Bond was easier."

x-x-x-x-x

Emma Burton was a light sleeper by nature. That must be where Sarah got it. So she easily heard Molly open the door and pad softly into her room. "What's wrong?" she asked sleepily.

"I heard some noises," Molly said sadly. "It woke me up."

Emma grinned in the dark. This wasn't that uncommon at all. About once a week Molly woke up in the middle of the night. And even though she knew she probably shouldn't encourage this, after all Molly was six now, she simply couldn't help it. She honestly looked forward to it, more than she should. After all, until Sarah and now Chuck came back into their lives, Molly was all she had. So she threw back the covers. "Only for a few minutes," she said. But as Molly climbed into the bed and snuggled comfortably with her mother, they both knew that she was now there for the night.

"When do you think we'll see Chuck and Sarah again?" Molly asked.

Emma's grin returned with a vengeance. Molly had just asked about both of them. But she clearly had a huge crush on her new brother-in-law. And if you were going to have a crush on someone, Chuck Bartowski was a pretty darn good choice. But she made sure not to let Molly think she was teasing her about it. That wouldn't do. "I don't know, sweetie," she said with a sigh. "I don't think it will be very long. Your sister really missed you. And Chuck…"

"He's a nice guy," Molly interrupted. "Isn't he?"

"He's a very nice guy," Emma agreed softly. "Your sister is incredibly lucky to have met him. So are we."

Suddenly the lights turned on. When Emma could get over being startled enough to look to the doorway there was a man standing there with a gun. "Maybe you're going to need some of that luck," he said.

"Get dressed. We're going for a ride."

x-x-x-x-x


	12. The Bet

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**The Bet**

x-x-x-x-x

Chuck and Sarah were enjoying the last sweet moments of their second first wedding night by having a nice room service breakfast. They were both pretty famished. Sarah was never one of those beautiful women who counted and fretted over every calorie. But even if she was, she had no worries today. Not with the workouts yesterday, both on the dance floor… and later. So she was fully enjoying her Eggs Benedict.

Chuck had been so cute last night teasing her. He kept saying that it was a shame to pay all that money for such a big bed and spend all night cuddled together using only a small sliver of it. So each time they took a break, he insisted that they move to a different spot on it. They managed to get their money's worth… eventually.

"I hate to spoil this wonderful mood…" Sarah finally began sadly as she took the last bite of her slice of toast covered with orange marmalade and washed it down with a sip of coffee. It wasn't only true, it was understatement. She couldn't possibly imagine a better wedding night. All that was really missing was the wedding. And actually the wedding would have been the tense part for her anyway. Chuck always said that she wanted to elope. And that's sort of what this felt like. Anyway, however the wedding had happened, it had been the perfect wedding night. It was fun, and romantic, and sexy. She got to eat lobster, dance until she was tired, live out one of her life's great imaginary moments, and last but certainly not least, cuddle the night away while the greatest guy in the whole world dedicated himself to making her every wish come true. But…

"I know," Chuck sighed. "Let's not say our honeymoon is over, okay? Let's just call time out on it. We'll resume it later."

The tone of his voice was almost pleading. It was very cute. "Sort of like a rain delay," Sarah agreed with a grin.

Chuck looked at her in amazement. "Sarah," he said. "Are you a baseball fan?"

"Good lord no," Sarah said with a sarcastic laugh. "I was talking about tennis. Wimbledon has rain delays all the time. A rain delay is the worst time to be undercover security. People are milling around everywhere. Some drunk is always hitting on you, trying to get you to go someplace with him so he can show you how hard his serve is, if you get my meaning. And you can't even shoot him. It's a real pain."

Chuck definitely wanted to know why Sarah, a CIA Agent, was undercover at a sporting event in England. But this wasn't the time. "So," he said. "What is the plan?"

"I'm not sure," Sarah said thoughtfully. "They're probably regrouping after their most humiliating defeat last night. They almost assuredly have figured out that you're the Intersect again. It's going to make them want you even more. The problem is that they'll eventually get around to thinking about trying to get some leverage on us somehow. That probably means Ellie… or Mom. The problem is that they are two thousand miles apart. We can't cover them both."

"I'll call Casey," Chuck said. "He's in Kentucky someplace. I'll ask him to go keep an eye on Ellie. You and I can drive and get Mom and Molly. Maybe we can take the jet to Florida and take Molly to Disney World. I may have sort of promised her that we'd go someday."

Sarah pushed down the thought of Chuck being all cute showing Molly the time of her life at Disney World. This wasn't the time to be anything except totally focused on the task at hand. She hesitated for a long moment. "Can we trust him?" she finally asked softly. "Look, sweetie, I know that he's your friend. But I don't know him at all. Chuck, I have to tell you. He just doesn't have a very good reputation. He's a cold, ruthless, by-the-book hard-ass who shoots people first and asks questions later."

Chuck just looked sad. "But couldn't he have said the exact same thing about you once?" he asked softly after a moment. "Here is the complete truth. If there was one single memory that I wish you could get back, it would be your relationship with Casey. You've both changed so much. You came into my life on the same day and at first you couldn't stand each other. He was NSA and you were CIA and you were always fighting for control. For the first few months or so it was pretty tense. You were always sniping at each other. Then there was a year where you sort of wordlessly agreed to tolerate each other. Then you started trusting each other, at least on the job. For the past couple of years, it became plain. You loved each other."

At that, Sarah's head jerked up.

"Don't worry," Chuck said. "I didn't mean it like that. It was never inappropriate. You just had a bond with him, probably because you're so much alike. He became pretty much your big brother. You could talk to him about things that you wouldn't even talk to me about. Not that either of you would ever admit it. God forbid that you two would tell anybody that you loved them. Hell would freeze over first. But you clearly both did. And I'm not the tiniest bit jealous about that. I was happy to see it happen. It was great for you. Besides, I love him just as much as you do. He's come through for us, saved our lives so many times that it would be impossible to count. You're actually the one who talked Verbanski into giving the idea of them becoming a real romantic couple a chance. She was as hard core as you two were once. Sarah, Casey's not our partner. He's not even our friend. He's our family, every bit as much as Ellie or Morgan. He would gladly lay down his life to protect us. It breaks my heart that you don't remember that. I miss him like crazy. So yes, we can trust him."

Sarah flashed back to her hotel room, just a couple of weeks ago. Casey had said that they had become friends. Naturally she didn't believe him. Spies like John Casey didn't have friends, only assignments. But Beckman had strongly hinted at the same thing the other day. Could it really be true? Had he changed as much as she had? If so, the reason was clear. Even Beckman saw it. And it was standing right in front of her looking so incredibly cute wearing only his boxers and t-shirt. This guy who amazingly thought he was unworthy somehow had taken the two biggest burnt out bad asses that a lifetime of service to the greater good could produce and turned them into… people. Not only that, but people capable of loving. She was now more convinced than ever that losing her memories was ultimately a good thing. She had been forced to deny this amazing man for three long years. That must have been pure torture for both of them. No wonder a clearly broken Sarah Walker was crying on that mission log. "Okay," she finally said just as softly. "While you're talking to Casey, I'll call Mom and have her pack some things for her and Molly so we'll be ready to leave."

Chuck stepped to the other side of the suite to call Casey. Of course his first reaction was to ask how Sarah was doing. But after Chuck assured him that Sarah was great and told him about the current situation, he didn't have to be asked. He was immediately asking what his assignment was. Naturally Chuck wouldn't let a conversation with Casey go without a shot about them being in Vegas on their new honeymoon. But Casey took it in stride. In fact the tone of his voice plainly said that he was looking forward to a mission, any mission. Chuck resisted the very large temptation to ask him how it was going with Verbanski. The fact that they were still together said something. It was going to take some time to grow into acting like a couple, for both of them. After all, they were both pretty much the same, lone wolfs just like Sarah had been. Becoming a domestic couple would be a huge change for both of them. But by some sense Chuck knew they were going to make it.

"He's on his way," Chuck said with a laugh as he ended the call. "I think he's grateful to have an excuse to get out of the house." When he saw her face, Chuck immediately knew that something was seriously wrong. So he rushed over to her. "Sarah," he said. "What's wrong?"

Chuck didn't have to see the tears welling in her eyes to know that something was horribly wrong. The fact that she wouldn't look at him told him that. "Sarah," he repeated softly. "Tell me what's wrong?"

"We're too late," Sarah said as she buried her face in Chuck's chest. "Those bastards took them."

"They have Mom and Molly."

x-x-x-x-x

Sarah sat in the restaurant at the Grand Ambassador waiting for Eric to show up. Ironically it was same place that they were supposed to meet last night. This was a calculated gamble. Eric agreed far too quickly. He could very well be setting up a trap. But honestly Sarah didn't think so. He was currently holding a lot of cards. He'd surely want to show up and gloat about it.

They were lucky that they had a way to contact Eric in the first place. It was smart thinking for Chuck to take Alan's cell phone last night. He rightly pointed out that Eric Gold's phone number was assuredly in there someplace.

It had been a mad scramble to make it here in time. They had to go down to the shops and buy Sarah a new dress suitable for this fancy location. It wouldn't do for Sarah to wear the same dress as just last night. And this one was stunning. Chuck said that he liked it even better than last night. It needed a couple of alterations to fit her perfectly. But one good thing about staying in a high roller place, they snapped to attention whenever you needed something. And when you spent over two thousand dollars for a dress, they were standing by waiting for you. So the only thing left was the frantic drive back to the city. Fortunately most of the way back was flat and straight through the dessert… and they had a very high performance car. Sarah drove this time, with little regard for silly technicalities like speed limits.

Finally, Eric walked up to the table. "Agent Walker, you're looking quite lovely," he said with a smirk as he took his seat. "As usual."

Sarah ignored the compliment. "You're late," she began with no hint of humor. "Before we go any further, let's get one thing on the table. If anything, and I mean anything, happens to my mom or my sister, if either one of them get so much as an accidental paper cut out of this, I will hunt you down. I'll make it my life's mission. I'll dedicate myself to becoming so valuable to the CIA that they'll do anything to keep me happy. Then I'll get you alone sometime when you least expect it and slowly carve you up like a Christmas goose. You'll be begging me to let you die."

If Eric was intimidated, he surely showed no sign of it. "Agent Walker," he said in mock concern. "You're the one who asked for this meeting. I thought that you wanted to negotiate. Such violent threats are really not the way negotiations should begin, don't you think? I thought you'd be a little grateful. The sister in Chicago has been picked on enough. We figured it was someone else's turn."

Sarah ignored his shot. "Okay," she said. "Let's negotiate. What do you want?" Responding to his skeptical look, Sarah continued. "In specifics. How is this going to work?"

"Okay," Eric said. "You want specifics? Here's what I'm authorized to offer. I think you'll agree that it is very generous. First you work your magic and get your husband to agree to offer his full and genuine cooperation to our project for one year. To make sure that he doesn't change his mind, he will live in the compound under our watchful eyes for that year. Mom and the little girl go back to suburbia heaven, doing whatever it is that they do. You get reinstated as a full field agent. I think that's more than fair."

"Fully reinstated?" Sarah asked skeptically. "Just like that."

"Just like that," Eric said with a smile. "Come on, Agent Walker. That's what you want, isn't it?"

Sarah ignored the question. "I'd have some conditions," she said slowly. "First, I get to live there with him. He gets a regular forty hour work schedule. Second, we want a legitimate comfortable living space with windows and all the proper amenities including computer access and an exercise area, not some cold cement bunker. Third, there will be no surveillance in our private bed and bath area. Fourth, we want to have regular contact with my mom and Chuck's sister. And finally, one year and we're done. Not a single day more. No matter what state your project is in at that point."

"Of course," Eric said. "We want him to feel comfortable. That's the only practical way we're going to get his cooperation. You can surely live with him when we're not on assignment. In fact we'd insist on that."

Sarah's head shot up. "When we're not on assignment?" she asked.

Eric's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "We're going to be partners," he said. "And as the senior partner of our team I actually have some conditions of my own. First, you're a CIA Agent. You've taken an oath. This probably shouldn't have to be said. But perhaps it's time that you started acting like it. I expect you to follow all my orders without question. We're going to be undercover as a couple in some very intimate situations. Whenever we're on assignment, I expect that you will stay in character conducting yourself as my doting girlfriend, 24 x 7, including in bed. Second, when it is required, you will use any and all means necessary to ensure Bartowski's cooperation at all times including nagging, pouting, crying, and withholding sex… just like a real wife would. Third, and most important, you will start off our partnership by spending tonight with me vigorously apologizing for your very rude behavior at our last meeting."

Sarah's protest at his snarky inference that she wasn't a real wife died on her lips. "Spend the night with you?" she asked sarcastically. "Is that really necessary? Surely you can find women on your own. It's not very professional."

Sarah Walker was one tough cookie. But what option did she have? Eric could hear the defeat in her voice. He was going to enjoy every second of his hard earned victory. "In negotiations it's what's called a deal breaker," he said with a smug smile. "I want what I'm owed. It didn't have to be this hard, Sarah. I was willing to do this in Washington with a lot more dignity. And it's very professional. If we're going to be undercover as an intimate couple, you need to spend some time learning my tastes, don't you agree? I have a couple of preferences in bed that you might take some time getting accustomed too. Let's call it my bonus for a job well done. Besides, there is a principle involved. You're treated me very poorly. It would be very unprofessional to not make sure that you understand who is in control. I've been looking forward to it for some time. Consider it my pound of flesh." Then he made a big point of conspicuously checking her out. "In fact," he said with a sneer. "I'd say it's my 108 pounds of flesh."

Sarah paused for a long, long time considering the offer. "If I do this," she finally said with a sigh. "I have some deal breakers of my own. First, I get to talk to Mom and make sure she's safe. Second, Chuck is currently in Chicago making sure his sister is okay. I have to pick him up at the airport tomorrow morning at eight. So our night has to end fairly early. And most important, Chuck can never ever find out about this or any of the details about any intimacy between us."

"Okay," Eric said.

"I mean it," Sarah said insistently as she pounded the table for emphasis. "I'm not ever hurting this decent man like that. You don't know him. He doesn't think about sex like you do. To him it's a sacred vow. He's already made far too many sacrifices. He may be able to live with the occasional mission as long as I can put a positive spin on the details. But finding out that you and I spent the night together outside of a mission would kill him. Not only would it cause me to lose a pretty damn good husband, it would make him worthless for your purposes."

"Poor guy has it bad, huh?" Eric said.

"Very bad," Sarah agreed. "Eric, I'm not kidding one bit. I'm only agreeing to this disgusting demand to make it as easy on Chuck as possible. If he ever finds out a single word about any sex between us, our deal is off… and you just made yourself one deadly lifelong enemy. By the way, if you think I'm at all happy about this, don't delude yourself. If you're expecting any enthusiasm in bed from me, you're out of luck. Be prepared to do all of the work tonight. So let's get this over with."

"We'll see about the enthusiasm," Eric said with the grin of total victory. "I want what I'm owed. You're trained to fake it, right? Get a room. Leave me a key at the front desk. I have an errand to run. I'll be back in an hour or so."

x-x-x-x-x

When Sarah opened the door to her second luxury suite that day, she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud. Eric was standing there with his white dinner jacket, single red rose, and bottle of Chateau Margeaux. How cliché, predictable, and incredibly pathetic was that? Did he really think that he had a chance to actually romance her into willingly participate? She didn't have to invite him in. She just held the door open and moved out of his way.

Eric made absolutely no effort to conceal the fact that he was thoroughly checking her out from head to toe. The arrogant grin, that he was also making no attempt to conceal as he conspicuously paused his gauze at her chest, very clearly stated how he expected the evening to go. He handed her the rose and placed the wine on the table. "Agent Walker, you look extra nice tonight," he said. "That dress looks phenomenal. Would you like a drink? We can open the wine." After all, there was no reason to rush. He had all night to formally accept her apology. And he fully intended to take full advantage of every minute. Soon that phenomenal dress would look even more phenomenal lying on the floor.

"I'm really going to have to talk to Roan."

When Eric turned he saw a man had stepped out of the bedroom. He was holding a gun pointed directly at him. "And just who are you?" he asked as he raised his hands in a show of surrender.

Chuck ignored the question. "Roan is really going to have to put a warning on that move," he said with a laugh. "Do not ever, under any circumstances, try the Montgomery on Sarah Walker. It could be hazardous to your health. I can't wait to tell him."

Then Chuck turned to Sarah. "Nice job," he said with a grin. "I told you this would work. That dress is even sexier than the one last night. All you have to do is sit there looking all beautiful. When guys think they might have a chance with you they simply switch off their brains. I'm almost ready to switch off mine."

Sarah stepped up to Chuck and kissed him. In fact she did more than kiss him. She was clearly putting on a show for Eric's benefit. "Yup, you called it," she said when the lengthy kiss finally broke.

She turned to a clearly confused Agent Gold. "You see, Eric. Let's get something very straight between us. Your stupid deal is the last thing in the world that I would ever agree to. Even if we trusted you enough to hope that you'd keep your end, and we don't, it makes us no more than slaves. Besides, I have zero interest in working for your corrupt CIA. And becoming your partner and going undercover as a couple? The very idea turns my stomach. I'm disgusted by what the agency's become, and you're the poster boy for that. My oath was to defend the United States Constitution from all enemies. From where I'm standing your 'orders' are about as far away from that as possible. So you can shove being reinstated as a field agent far, far up your ass. My name is Sarah Bartowski, Mrs. Bartowski to you. In fact, if you ever call me Agent Walker again, it's going to cost you a finger. Even the thought of spending a night vigorously apologizing to you quite frankly makes me want to hurl. Simply being in the same room with you makes me feel like I need to take a shower. If I'm going to apologize for anything it's going to be to my husband… for not making you suffer more in my hotel room in Washington before I ended your night."

Chuck grinned at his wife. "Tell him about the bet."

"Okay, Chuck," Sarah said with her own grin and a bit of faux frustration. "I'm getting to it."

Sarah took all of the humor out of her voice as she turned to face Agent Gold again, speaking to him like one would speak to a child. "You see, Eric, I'm afraid I lied to you about my husband being in Chicago. Sorry about that. This was always his plan to get you alone so we can talk in private. Since we were in Nevada at the time, it seemed like the appropriate place to make a friendly wager. I'm afraid that I just lost. I bet him that no trained agent would ever be so… well so mind numbingly stupid to fall for this. He said that you were so pathetic that you do anything for a chance to get laid, including switching off your brain. Turns out he was right. Did I mention that he's a genius? Losing a bet would normally put me into a very bad mood. But fortunately for you this time I'm actually looking forward to vigorously paying off."

Sarah turned to face her husband with a grin. Maybe she was still speaking to Agent Gold, but she was clearly talking to Chuck. "I'm not going to tell you what we bet," she said clearly mocking Eric. Then she lowered her voice to little more than a whisper. "Oh, what the hell," she said. "It's sex."

Sarah was clearly enjoying her sport. Then she turned back to Chuck. "Have I told you how proud of you that I am? This is something that would have driven you crazy in the past. You've really grown. I'm so impressed."

"Thank you. Yes, it might have been mentioned. But really it's not so impressive. What could I possibly have to be jealous about, especially with this guy? He's fairly pathetic."

"Absolutely nothing," Sarah said with a grin. "But you never did have any reason to be jealous and it has never stopped you before. So maybe we'll have to agree to disagree about how impressive it is. I tried to tell you that he was pathetic. You wouldn't listen. By the way, don't give up on the Montgomery. I keep telling you that it works… when the girl wants it to."

"You keep saying that," Chuck said in faux confusion. "But this poor moron is now oh-for-two. I'm oh-for-one. Besides, I don't quite get it. If the girl wants it to work, why would you need it?"

"Well," Sarah answered sheepishly. "First off, I can pretty much guarantee that you'll never become oh-for-two. Who knows? Maybe it will inspire something. Maybe someday the Full Bartowski Treatment will be just as famous. You'll never know unless you try. Besides I bet you would look pretty sexy in the white dinner jacket. It would be another first for us, right? Maybe someday James Bond can use the Montgomery to put Agent Walker helplessly under his spell while he collects his bet winnings along with another pair of conquest panties. That might be a little fun."

Eric watched the interaction with a growing impatience. "Excuse me," he finally said as he lowered his hands. "Can someone please tell me what is going on here?"

"I'm sorry," Chuck said sarcastically. "I'll bet you're confused. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Chuck Bartowski. I'm sure that you've heard that name. By the way, I'm actually inclined to be a little sympathetic to your plight. For such a beautiful woman, she historically has had something of a reputation for being incredibly fussy about who she allows inside of her panties. Trust me, you're not the only man who stepped up and took a mighty swing, only to strike out. It took me three long years of almost constant begging and pleading to get her to that point, so I can understand your frustration. But we're getting a bit off topic. My lovely wife here would like to ask you some questions. After all, we need to rescue our family, end your rather silly plot, and get back to what we should be doing, our second honeymoon that you so rudely interrupted. I think we were about to play some tennis. She said something about wanting to see how hard my serve is, if you get my meaning. So you can probably understand that we're sort of in a hurry. We'd really appreciate candid answers."

"You're delusional," Eric said smugly. "Do you really think I would come here alone? Do you think I'm really that stupid?"

"I'm sure that you have men downstairs," Chuck said with a calm smile. "In fact, we're counting on it. But they think you're up here getting laid, right? By the time they even begin to suspect anything is amiss, we'll have our family back and be tipping back a tall cold one in your memory. As far as your question, Forrest Gump would say that stupid is as stupid does. Look around. Don't you think that your 'does' speaks for itself?"

Eric shook his head in frustration. "You think that you're going to rescue them?" he asked sarcastically. "Get real. They are in a secured compound guarded by fifty agents. You don't have a chance."

"Under normal circumstances I might agree with you," Sarah said. "But this apparently isn't the fist time we've been underestimated. You're talking about the team that took down Fulcrum, The Ring, and Alexei Volkoff. Compared to that, your rather unimpressive group of second and third string agents looks like a day at the beach. Are you ready to answer some questions?"

"Fuck you," Eric said dismissively. "I'm not telling you anything. We're still holding all the cards. If you're not ready to listen to reason now, you soon will be. If I have to force you into this, my price will be going up."

To Eric's surprise that got an even bigger grin. "You know what?" Chuck asked. "I was really sorta hoping you would say something like that. My mother-in-law is one of the sweetest, nicest people I've ever met. I already love her like crazy and I look forward to getting to know her a lot better over the years. And a six year old little girl? Really, Eric? What kind of insect are you anyway? Not to mention disrespecting my incredible wife. Trying to force her into bed? I thought that you agent types were taught how to pick up women all on your own. So all in all, as it turns out you actually aren't my favorite person."

Chuck turned to his wife and winked at her.

"And there is something that you probably aren't aware of," he continued. "You see, Eric, interrogation is her specialty. She keeps boasting about it all the time. I was looking forward to finally seeing her in action. There was a day when she was known as 'The Enforcer.' Trust me on something. I know her pretty well. Look at her real closely. When she sets her jaw like she's doing right now, well let's just say that I really don't think that I'd want to be in your shoes anytime soon."

Chuck raised his gun and fired two darts into Eric's chest. It only took a moment for him to begin to collapse. "So, about that holding all of the cards thing, I think I might want to raise you. I'm on a roll with the betting thing. What do you say, Eric?"

"Would you like to go all in?"

x-x-x-x-x


	13. The Unsinkable Molly Brown

_We don't own Chuck. Actually, we don't own much of anything. _

_I have normally been posting The Cost of Love on Mondays and The Long Road Home on Thursdays. With this being Christmas Eve, I think I'm going to change that. I didn't plan this but the next chapter of The Cost of Love probably isn't suitable for such a day. It's pretty grim._

_So while maybe the image of The Enforcer dealing with Eric Gold isn't the best possible Christmas present, it's all I have._

_So I hope that you will all have a happy and safe Christmas holiday._

_If you enjoyed this or any of the stories on this site, please take a second and send the author a review. It only takes a second – and it really, really makes a difference. That's probably more important than ever now that the series has ended. If you want to keep the Chuck fandom alive and continue to read about these characters, you really need to think about rewarding the people whose hard work make that possible._

**The Unsinkable Molly Brown**

x-x-x-x-x

Emma and Molly were huddled together on one of the cots in their cell. At least the bastards had kept them together. Things had gotten a little rough during the capture. In fact Emma was currently sporting a bit of a fat lip. That was courtesy of a backhanded slap that was punishment for trying to stand in the man's way when he went to secure Molly. But since they were in the cell, they were basically left alone. Except for bringing them meals, there was no interaction with their captors at all. And that suited Emma just fine.

At first she was consumed with trying to put on a brave face for Molly. But she quickly realized that, not only wasn't that necessary, if anything Molly was the calm one. She fully expected her new heroes to rescue them with the surety that only a six year old could pull off.

"I wish they would hurry up and get here," Molly finally said with an exasperated sigh.

Emma could only stare at her daughter in wonder. 'Daughter', the real truth was that Molly technically wasn't even her daughter. Fate had thrown two people together who desperately needed each other… as it so often did. And yes, Molly depended on her. But there also wasn't a single day that Emma didn't also thank fate. She couldn't imagine being closer to someone. It was the second chance at being a good mom that had eluded her with Sarah. In fact, Molly was perhaps the polar opposite of Sarah. Where Sarah was always so quiet and bashful, Molly never had a single unexpressed thought. In spite of the ridiculously tense situation, Emma was forced to smile. "I'm sure they are on their way," she said as soothingly as she could. "It takes time to plan a rescue, even for heroes like Chuck and Sarah."

"I know," Molly said with an even deeper sigh. "I just wish they would hurry."

"Chuck promised he would take us to Disney World."

x-x-x-x-x

When Eric Gold finally woke up, encouraged by several not so gentle slaps to the face followed by a whiff of two of some rather nasty smelling salts, he found his arms and legs strapped to a plain but very sturdy wooden chair. Even when he was back to full consciousness he wasn't exactly sure where he was. What he was exactly sure of was that he was no longer in the suite at the Grand Ambassador. It looked like a cement cell, windowless, probably in an underground bunker of some kind. Sarah Walker was standing there intently looking at him. She had clearly turned in her sexy evening dress and was now wearing a considerably less sexy black mission outfit.

"Good," Sarah said with no hint of humor. "You're finally awake. We can get started. Just to put this on the table, not that it ultimately makes much difference, but it might help if we both agree on who is in charge here. You having the information that I need might give you the illusion of being in charge. Make no mistake. I am totally in charge of this situation. You live or die based upon my sole discretion. The only way out of here alive is by making me happy. Oh one other thing, this is a sound proof room. So feel free to scream all you want. The screaming is actually my favorite part. It tells me that I have your attention. This next part is almost always a waste of my breath but it's only fair to give you a chance to get out of this with as little physical damage as possible. Are you willing to answer some questions?"

"Fuck you," Eric said.

"I'll take that as a no," Sarah said in a businesslike tone as she paced in front of him. "I really didn't think so. To be completely honest, I'm not even sure that I was hoping for it. You probably think that holding out is your duty. There's really nothing wrong with that, it's how you were trained. I understand that. For what it's worth, I even admire it a little. However I do think you should consider something. You weren't my favorite person even before this latest encounter yesterday."

That was ridiculous understatement. The roses and stupid card intended to cause her incredible husband to needlessly worry was a mean spirited low blow. The trap with the ten agents trying to beat her into submission was even worse. Then he tried to make Chuck and her into his personal slaves. And that was not even thinking about the pathetic attempt to force her into bed. Frankly, even thinking about it turned her stomach a little. "The things you've done in the past week alone are worthy of a death sentence in my mind. I could easily put a bullet between your eyes, go home, have a nice dinner with my husband, and sleep like a baby."

Sarah grabbed a handful of Eric's hair and jerked his head forcing him to look at her. "But then you went and topped even that," she said, her tone changing from businesslike to pure growl. "You kidnapped my mother and an innocent six year old little girl who must be scared to death right now. I can't imagine a human being doing something that purely evil. So we can forget all about the quick merciful bullet between the eyes. In fact if you're expecting any mercy from me whatsoever, well, I'd ask what color the sky is in your world. I'm going to do whatever it takes to get the information that I need in the quickest way possible. I'm afraid that means inflicting as much pain as I possibly can without driving you into unconsciousness. Not to boast like Chuck playfully is always accusing me of, but I'm quite good at it. Back in the day, my nickname was The Enforcer. Most times I don't enjoy this process. It's just a necessary task, something that has to be done. Today is a notable exception. My new rules are that I don't have any rules. Do we understand each other?"

Eric made no response.

Sarah reached over to the table and grabbed an instrument that looked something like a large pair of pliers and held them up so Eric could see. "This is called a finger popper," she said. "It's pretty low-tech, was invented in the far east sometime at the very beginning of the Iron Age, actually has a more formal oriental sounding name that I really could never pronounce properly. The English name is pretty self-explanatory. It's actually quite ingenious. It works by taking the joint of a finger at the middle knuckle and putting pressure on it until the cartilage explodes. The popping sound it makes is quite distinctive. It's said that it's one of the most painful experiences possible. I've heard reports that new orthopedic joint replacement techniques can now usually save the function of the finger after a long rehab… but it's probably never really the same."

Sarah let her warning sink in for a bit before she placed the instrument in position over Eric's left index finger and paused. "One last time, Eric before this gets very serious. Are you ready to answer my questions?"

"Fuck you," Eric said with an arrogant grin. "You're bluffing. You would never do anything like that. It's against the rules. You know it and I know it."

Pop!

Sarah took one look at the surprised look of horror on Eric's face and the wordless cry that escaped his lips. "Aren't you getting sort of tired of being wrong today?" she asked in a mock playful tone. "I guess we both know now that I'm not in any way bluffing. I must admit, I rather enjoyed that. It was frontier justice at it's finest. Be honest. It hurt like hell, right? And even better, you now know that the soft, sweet, blonde that you once had a vision of taking to bed and using for your amusement tonight is pure fantasy. She only exists when I want her to. I'm afraid she is never, ever going to exist for you. She is reserved exclusively for my amazing husband. On the other hand, Agent Walker can be a serious bitch when she wants to. I'm afraid that's who you're going to be stuck with tonight. I haven't even gotten warmed up yet." That's why she wouldn't let Chuck stay. She didn't want him to ever see her like this.

Sarah paused for a moment to grin at him evilly while he struggled against the pain. "Against the rules, Eric?" she finally continued. "Like kidnapping a six year old little girl, Eric? Help me out here. What rule book are you using which would allow that? So just like you, I now have no rules. Once we've done a few fingers, I'm thinking we'll move to your testicles. I'll admit that will be a first for me. I really don't think they'll pop, do you? Probably more like a squishing sound. I'm sort of torn on this one. I'm not really looking forward to pulling down your pants and I'm frankly looking forward to seeing your testicles up close and personal even less, but I have to admit, watching them squish might be a little fun. Now that I think about it, maybe we should move to the testicles right away. I think I might like you a little better without testicles. They seem to be driving you into some really stupid actions. You're probably better off without them."

Eric was now softly moaning as tears streamed down his face. "Please," he was finally able to get out.

But Sarah didn't flinch. She simply moved the popper to the next finger. "You can stop this at any time," she said. "Just nod your head and quickly answer any and all questions that I ask and this will be over. I have a doctor in the hall who will give you something for the pain. I do think that I owe you just a bit of fair warning. I hate being lied to, always have. I consider it a sign of disrespect. Our team is picking up your men from the hotel parking lot as we speak. I'm going to be asking them enough of the very same set of questions that I ask you to tell if you're being truthful. If your answers don't match… Well, Eric, I was going to say that you're a smart guy and you could figure it out. But we should probably strike that smart guy part. Maybe it's better if I tell you a little plainer. It will cost you several finger joints and a testicle. That's going to be non-negotiable."

"So, Eric, let me know when you're ready to answer some questions, okay?"

x-x-x-x-x

When Sarah came out of the interrogation room, the first thing she did was to find Chuck and brief him about what she'd learned. Brief was actually a good term. The conversation was very brief… and rather tense. He clearly still wasn't happy with her. As soon as they were finished Chuck left to make his phone calls to put things into motion.

Sarah spotted Ellie sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee. She immediately went over to give her sister-in-law a hug. "Thank you for coming," she said. "I'm so sorry to drag you away from your family and half way across the country on such short notice.

Ellie flashed her warmest smile. "Don't be silly," she said. "I'm with my family right now. How much damage did you have to do?"

"Not much," Sarah said. "For all of his macho bullshit bravado he caved pretty quickly. His left index finger is pretty mangled. Ellie, I know that you're a doctor and your oath is to help your patient however you can, but this guy is dangerous. It's okay to treat his injuries and make him as comfortable as possible, but don't loosen his bonds no matter how much he pleads. Morgan will go in with you just for backup, won't you Morgan?"

Morgan simply nodded. He had already had one run-in with Sarah today over 'forgetting' to tell her about teaching Chuck to drive her car. He really wasn't looking forward to facing a pissed off Agent Walker again anytime in the near future.

Ellie also nodded. "Can I sedate him?" she asked.

"Here's the deal," Sarah said. "The only thing I would need this guy for is if what he's told me turns out to be bullshit. Then I would need to talk to him again. He would have to be alert enough to answer my questions and fear that I was going to deliver him more pain. So you can do anything that wouldn't interfere with that. I seriously think we're going to be okay. At the end he was pretty eager to appear cooperative. He seemed pretty afraid that I was going to take another finger so he quickly answered the questions I asked him. But I'm also not prepared to take any chances. I understand that what I'm asking of you might be at odds with your oath. I'm truly sorry about that."

"Will you stop with the sorry stuff?" Ellie asked in mostly faux frustration. "You're starting to sound just like Chuck. I'm your and Chuck's sister well before I'm a doctor. From only the little I know this guy is someone who a little pain might do some good. It could have just as easily been Devon, Clara, or me that was his next target. Trust me. If you need to talk to him again, he'll be available. Besides, Mrs. Bartowski, I'm far too giddy after talking to Chuck to worry all that much about anything. You guys are going to be okay. I think that's possibly the best news I've ever heard. I want to hear every single lovesick detail."

"Thanks," Sarah said. "I've been dying to call you. We've just been too busy. I have to keep my spy game face on, so I can't get giddy right now. But I'm looking forward to talking later more than you are. I understand that you're going to look at his finger and wonder what kind of monster would do something like that. Not to mention threatening to kill you. All I can say is that I used to be that monster. But I'm not any more. Tonight I just did what I had to do. As soon as this blows over you and I have to take some time, go someplace private, and truly fix us. Ellie, I want to get back to where we were."

Ellie nodded. "There's really nothing that needs to be fixed," she protested. "We never left where we were. It's just that you couldn't remember it for a while. I've never, not once, thought of you as a monster. I love you, Sarah. I always have and I always will. But as long as you're feeling guilty, I wouldn't object to you treating me to a ride in this private jet that Chuck says you're so in love with. Maybe you could fly us to some tropical island; we could have a few drinks at a club on the beach sometime while you entertain me with some best friend type gossip about you and Chuck."

In spite of the tense situation, that got a smile. "He's a little miffed at me right now," Sarah began, "but suffice it to say, we're a lot more than okay. In fact, I'd say that we're pretty much perfect, probably better now than we've ever been, even before the lost memories. But maybe I'm not the best one to say. I'll let you be the judge of that. If we fly someplace tropical we'll have to plan on spending at least one night. After spending a night drinking with you, I'd be in no shape to fly us back. I'm pretty sure that you don't want to hear every detail of the past few days since we've talked last, but I'll tell you as much as you can stomach. You'll have to shut me up when it gets creepy for you."

After Ellie smiled and turned to look after her new patient Sarah turned to Morgan and grabbed his hand. Responding to the look of pure panic, she smiled. "I'm sorry that I was so harsh with you earlier," she said. "I… um… Morgan, I'm kind of a hothead. I was under some stress, so I lashed out at you. That wasn't right."

Suddenly Morgan's grin was back, like it had never left. "I should have told you," he said. "I thought about it. It just didn't quite fit in with the theme I was going for at the time. And, no offense, but I'm pretty well aware of the hothead thing."

"I understand," Sarah said with a sigh. "Thank you for getting us down here. It hurts not having a base anymore."

"Hopefully you won't need a base anymore," Morgan said with a laugh. "Besides, what's a Buy More going to do with a secret base? All we've been doing is storing flat screens down here. Seems like a waste of a bunch of soundproof rooms."

x-x-x-x-x

As soon as Ellie and Morgan left to check on Eric, Sarah sat at the table with her own cup of coffee and waited, not so patiently, for Chuck. They were in the middle of their first real fight since getting back together and she knew that it had to be resolved quickly. Normally Agent Walker would have been able to push these types of personal feelings aside and simply concentrated on the mission… not this time. There was no way she could go into a dangerous mission knowing that Chuck was angry with her. In fact she was quite frankly surprised by how miserable she felt. Usually she would be feeling the nervous energy that always accompanied a mission. Currently she just felt like crying. It was a new experience for Agent Walker. And even though she felt like crying, it wasn't totally unpleasant. It was the biggest sign yet that Agent Walker had changed into Sarah Bartowski. Her priorities had changed. But it also had to be quickly resolved.

"I just got off the phone with Casey."

Sarah was so deep in thought that she hadn't noticed him until he was standing across the table. She was so intent on trying to figure out his mood that she really didn't get the importance of what he was saying.

"They have the men and their car in custody," Chuck continued. "The plan is on schedule."

Sarah nodded. She didn't know how to say it, so she just blurted it out. "Chuck," she pleaded. "I don't want to fight with you any more. I know that you wanted to help. But please don't be cross with me. I hate that."

But when she actually looked into his eyes as he sat across the table, it wasn't anger in there. Indeed his eyes were filling with tears. That caused her to worry a little. So she grabbed his hand. "What's wrong? Is it mom?"

Chuck was clearly trying to gather his composure. He opened his mouth to answer her twice, but no words would come. Finally he just shook his head firmly.

Now Sarah's worry had escalated into full blown concern, panic wasn't far away. "Sweetie," she said as she squeezed his hand. "What's wrong? You can't be this mad at me over this. Please talk to me. You're scaring me."

Chuck finally got the words out. "I just figured something out," he started haltingly. "That trust fund. That's how they found mom and Molly. I led those bastards right to them." Then his voice broke. "I'm so sorry, Sarah."

Sarah hadn't thought about it, but she had to admit, he was probably right. Normally, she wouldn't have been able to look at Chuck trying to blink away tears without blinking away a few of her own. And this was a still a very tense situation. They were about to risk their lives on a rescue mission. But she couldn't help the smile that was tugging at the corners of her mouth caused by the relief. He wasn't mad at her.

In fact it was more than relief. That was her Chuck, her guy, who was sitting there trying to keep from breaking down. It was today's reminder of what had never been more evident. His biggest weakness was also his biggest strength. He cared about people, worried over their well being. It was a characteristic that an agent on a mission couldn't afford. He had lived this life for five years now. Yet, he simply didn't allow the grim realities to alter who he was. That made him unique… and totally wonderful.

"You're being pretty silly," she said softly but firmly. "We were out of the spy business. You had no way to predict this would happen. I wouldn't have either. If I had been there when you set up that fund, I would have said to go ahead. You have no reason to feel guilty for being the most generous, most sensitive, nicest person in the world."

Sarah saw the beginnings of a smile. "I was worried that you were mad at me for not letting you stay for the interrogation," she said. "Can we please make up?"

Chuck simply shook his head as if to signify not quite yet. But he also couldn't keep the smile from broadening. "I have seen Agent Walker in action before," he said as he took a seat across the table from her. "She's quite the badass. I know that you don't believe this, but the badass part is one of your most attractive qualities to me. I love the surprised look on their faces when they realize a second too late that they have underestimated you… just before your foot impacts the side of their head. I actually fell hopelessly in love with that badass. You don't have to hide her from me."

All Sarah could do was let out an audible sigh. He was more than right. This was totally her issue. She didn't like Chuck seeing Agent Walker, didn't understand how anybody could love her. He had nailed her yet again. Why in the world would she still be surprised at that? "I know," was all she could say.

Chuck quickly let her off the hook. "You don't want to rub my face in it," he finished her thought. "Okay, I get that. I know that you're not ashamed of the things that you've done as a spy. And you shouldn't be. You've made the world a better place, saved countless lives, including mine. So why are you so afraid that I might see you like that? Sarah, if you think that I would change a single thing about you, you're simply mistaken. I'm so proud of badass Agent Walker that I feel like shouting it. I was actually looking forward to seeing that scumbag taste a little comeuppance."

"Okay," Sarah said, now her voice had a little of a pleading quality. "It's just… um, just… can we please make up?"

"This is something that you clearly don't remember," Chuck said. "But we fight like this fairly, well perhaps not regularly, but it does happen from time to time. We have established a very specific way to make up. Come on. Morgan says that the bedroom quarters are still in place. I think you're going to like this."

That got them both laughing. "I'll bet you do," Sarah said. "I never thought that I'd say this to you. But, Chuck is this really the time and place for bedroom stuff?"

Chuck's grin threatened to break his face. "Do you trust me?" he asked playfully.

Sarah wasn't sure where this was going. But there was really only one possible answer to that question. "Of course," she said.

"I have a plan," Chuck said. "One that even hard core, badass Agent Walker would approve of. After all, her reputation is that she would make almost any sacrifice for a mission. Bedroom stuff is actually a key component of this plan. It's put up or shut up time, Sarah. Do you have his phone?"

Sarah couldn't quite read his mood. That fact alone annoyed her a little. He was clearly partially teasing… but he was also just as clearly partially serious. So her tone was maybe a little sharper than she planned as she held up Eric's iPhone. "Yes," she said. "What are we going to do with it?"

Chuck stood up and extended his hand to her. "Come on," he said. "I think that they need to think that they're winning a little."

In spite of the tense situation, Sarah couldn't help responding to his relaxed grin. So now her annoyance was mostly faux in nature. "Are you going to tell me about the plan?" she asked. "Or am I going to have to interrogate you too?"

"I was James Bond last night," Chuck replied. "I can probably pull off Eric Gold tonight, don't you think?"

"Let's go give those bastards something to think about."

x-x-x-x-x


	14. The Inside Job

_We don't own Chuck. Actually, we don't own much of anything. _

_If you enjoyed this or any of the stories on this site, please take a second and send the author a review. It only takes a second – and it really, really makes a difference. That's probably more important than ever now that the series has ended. If you want to keep the Chuck fandom alive and continue to read about these characters, you really need to think about rewarding the people whose hard work make that possible._

**The Inside Job**

x-x-x-x-x

"That is, without a doubt, the stupidest plan I've ever heard."

Sarah stood there with her hands on her hips watching the grin that was honestly becoming more than a little annoying spread across his face. "It's far too dangerous," she continued her rant. "In fact it's foolishly reckless. I can't believe that you expect them to..."

But then in mid sentence she realized how harsh she probably sounded to him and thought maybe she'd better temper her criticism a bit. "I'm sorry that I'm being so negative," she sighed. "I suppose you're expecting me to be more supportive. With your amazing track record…"

Chuck's grin never faded. "Actually," he interrupted. "It's OUR amazing track record. Do you really think that I could have done any of those things without you? I'd have been wearing a body bag the first week. And for the record, that's pretty much how you always react when I tell you about a plan. I'm fairly used to it."

"Then let's talk about this," Sarah said, much more softly. "I don't see how your surrendering accomplishes anything. That just gives them three hostages instead of two."

"I won't be a hostage," Chuck replied. "I'll be more like a mole. There are some things we need to do that can only be done from the inside. We have to hit them from all sides in one decisive blow before they know what's happening. That's the only way this will work. If they see us coming, they'll defend themselves. We can destroy them so they'll never recover."

Sarah considered that for a long moment. "Then maybe it should be me to surrender," she suggested softly.

Chuck's grin turned into more of a contented smile. "That wouldn't work," he insisted softly but firmly. "It has to be me. We've set it up that way. It's the only thing that makes sense. For one thing, I'm the one they really want. For another, you wouldn't know what to do, and I can't tell you, because I don't know myself yet. It has to come from the Intersect. Besides, they have to think that you're currently… um… doing something else. Sarah, I know that you're not crazy about this part but it's key. I know how they think. That's all they're going to be thinking about. Look, I understand that you're being protective of me. And yes, I appreciate it. But I know what I'm doing here. It's time to believe in me."

"I believe in you," Sarah immediately protested, honestly offended. "Come on, Chuck, you can't seriously be questioning that at this point. That was a horrible thing to say."

"I didn't mean it like that," Chuck said softly. "I'm sorry if you're offended. Of course I don't question that. But believing in me also includes the times when you think I'm wrong. Besides, I won't be alone. I know that you're worried, a mile outside of your comfort zone. I understand that you were trained to look at problems as a lone wolf. But, Sarah, one of the biggest changes you made over the past five years was when you stopped being that lone wolf and became part of a team, a kick-ass team. I know this is probably the hardest thing for you, but it's time to trust the team."

Sarah stepped up and wrapped her arms around him. "I do believe in you," she said. "You're right, this is hard for me." It was nice being in his arms. Nice wasn't even the right word, comforting was more like it. "Okay, I'll work on being part of a team. But Chuck, please, please be very careful."

x-x-x-x-x

Alan marched into the conference room where the half of his new team that was not currently on guard duty was assembled. Since the room was never designed for a general assembly, it was overflowing. There weren't even enough seats for all of the thirty or so men and a handful had to stand. But this was important for morale. There were already rumblings that perhaps this project wasn't totally sanctioned. That kind of thinking needed to be nipped in the bud. Part of that was they all needed to share this hard earned victory. After the shift changed, he would brief the other half of the team.

It was an odd mix of people in the room. About a third of the people were scientists, clearly recognizable by the white lab jackets they constantly wore... like a nerd badge of honor. The agents made up the rest of the group. They were just as recognizable in their blue business suits. The room was split down the middle, white lab jackets on one side, suits on the other.

There was clearly the buzz of anticipation in the room. Surely something was up to schedule a briefing with the entire team. That never happened and especially at this hour. The suits and lab jackets were never in the same room. Truth be told, they pretended the other didn't exist whenever possible. All of their assignments and most of their information came from their section leads. Alan could feel the palatable anticipation so he got right to it. "Our mission is ready to move to the next phase," he said with a grin as soon as he reached the podium. "I just received a text message from Agent Gold. Bartowski surrendered in Chicago a few hours ago. Two agents from the Chicago office are escorting him here. They should be arriving within the hour."

The spontaneous celebration was for multiple reasons, both equally genuine. The lab jackets were eager to work with this Bartowski. Not only was he a legend, they were under a ton of pressure to get something working as quickly as possible. The plans they were working from were very detailed and complete, yet incredibly complex. Their efforts to date were creating an ever growing laundry list of questions that only access to a working intersect would completely answer. But the suits were actually happier with the news. They had heard from first hand witnesses how painful facing a hostile intersect and his pissed off badass wife could quickly become.

Alan allowed the celebration in the room to only last for a few moments before he turned on the projector. "There is actually more," he said loudly to get everyone's attention. "Agent Gold sent us a video. He wants to make sure that we show it to Bartowski. I think you might like it."

x-x-x-x-x

Emma was lying on the bed next to Molly. Fortunately Molly was asleep. And that was a good thing. After all, the boredom was perhaps the worst part of this ordeal so far, and sleeping was the best way to kill time. She really wished she could sleep. But it simply wouldn't come. This was all far too real.

Naturally, her prime concern was for Chuck and Sarah. It was pretty obvious that was who they really wanted. And whoever these men were, and they seemed to be incredibly well financed and organized, they wouldn't go to this drastic of an action unless they wanted something serious. It was just a guess that it had something to do with Sarah once being a CIA Agent, nobody had ever said that, but what else could it be? Sarah had never told her any details of what she did on her missions. But Emma wasn't so naïve to think it was all sunshine and roses.

In fact the one mission that Emma did know details about was lying next to her sleeping. Could this possibly have something to do with Molly? Emma's greatest fear, the one that had always lived about an inch below the surface, was that one day someone would come and take Molly away from her. It had almost happened just a few months ago. Emma always tried her best to stamp down that fear, but she knew that if it ever happened it would end her.

Not so far down the seemingly never ending list of things to worry about was Sarah's marriage. Chuck was simply an incredible man, more than she ever dreamed for in a son-in-law. She couldn't have possibly been happier for her daughter. And Sarah honestly completely loved him. She was sure of that. You could see it in her face, hear it in her voice. Emma didn't question that. What she did question was - could Sarah express it well enough to him? Marriage was all about trust, it couldn't survive without it. That was something that she knew full well from first hand personal experience. Being a lousy wife was a family legacy that she would rather not pass down. And even worse, Sarah was a loner, just like Jack. None of this came naturally to her. Would she trust him? Could she earn that trust from him in return? When push came to shove, could she be a wife?

So when Alan unlocked the door and entered the darkened cell, Emma noticed it immediately. She was very careful not to wake Molly as she got out of bed and went to face him.

"I have some good news," Alan said. "Your daughter has come through for you. She has arranged for your release. Very soon this will all be over."

Emma didn't respond. She had the sinking feeling that his smirk said that there was more to his news.

Her instincts were spot on.

Alan handed Emma his phone. "She sent you a message," he said. "She's been in fairly intense negotiations with my boss over the past several hours. She wanted to send you an update on how it was going."

The video that was playing on the phone only lasted for a few seconds, maybe twenty. And it wasn't really the best quality. When Gold had recorded the scene he really hadn't done a very good job of holding the phone still. But it was clearly Sarah. She was lying on her back on a bed. Her hands were visibly cuffed over her head and secured to the headboard.

The video concentrated on her face so you really couldn't see anything past her bare shoulders. But the Victoria's Secret bra that was lying bunched loosely around her neck probably told you all you needed to know about her state of dress. Her eyes were closed and she was plainly biting her lower lip as her face was contorted with a look that Emma had never seen before and couldn't really identify. Her head was rocking back and forth on the bed in time coinciding with the rhythmic grunts coming from behind the camera. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was happening. As soon as Emma realized in horror what this was, she turned her head away from the disgustingly vivid scene.

"I'll bet I've watched this a hundred times," Alan said with a smirk as he took the phone out of her hand. "You have a very beautiful daughter. Everybody thinks so. You should be very proud of the sacrifice she is willing to make for you."

Emma didn't respond. She knew that's exactly what he wanted. She couldn't keep the blush from her face. But she refused to acknowledge his cruel attempt to bait her. She just stared into space.

"Of course maybe it wasn't such a sacrifice," Alan continued his taunt. "She actually looks like she is enjoying this, especially towards the end. You know her better than I do. What do you think? Look at the way she is biting her lip, the expression on her face. Is she getting into this, maybe suppressing the urge to ask him to go a little harder? After all, it would only be human, right? That's frankly what my men mostly think. The video is titled 'Agent Walker Surrenders – Round Three'. I guess that sort of implies there are maybe two other videos we haven't seen yet. My men are starting a pool on what she's doing in them. Maybe you'd like in?"

Emma knew that she shouldn't respond. That's clearly what he wanted. She just couldn't help herself. "You classless bastard," she hissed still without giving him the respect of looking at him.

"Emma," Alan responded in mock concern. "You'll hurt my feelings. As you probably have guessed, your daughter has made more than a few enemies in her long and distinguished career. I'm actually one of the newest ones. Unfortunately, as long as we need her, I probably can't do anything physical, so that will have to wait. But I have to be honest here, Emma. I wouldn't mind causing her some serious emotional distress. In fact I would quite enjoy it."

Pure surprise caused Emma to turn and look at him.

Alan was clearly enjoying his sport. "One can plainly see where she gets her good looks," he said. "I'll bet in your day you were a pretty good little negotiator yourself. If you'd loosen up and dress a little less conservatively… who knows?"

That was the last thing that Emma expected him to say. It had been a good twenty years since one of these pigs had hit on her so blatantly. It was one of the things about growing older that she frankly didn't miss all that much. So she was frozen with surprise. For one thing she didn't want to wake Molly. So she could only watch in shocked horror as he reached over and casually popped open the top button on her blouse.

"See," he said, now making absolutely no attempt to hide his smirk. "That is a little better. A few more buttons and I'll bet you could be quite the MILF. Wake up the girl. You're going to be moved soon. Your lovely daughter went to a lot of trouble to make us this entertaining video. When we get to your new location I've made some arrangements for you and I to return the favor. We might just have some fun."

"You're insane," Emma snapped. "I'm doing nothing of the sort, you disgusting pig."

Allan grinned as he conspicuously glanced over to where Molly was sleeping. His unspoken meaning was clear. "I'm pretty sure that when the time comes I'll be able to talk you into it," he said. "I'm really very persuasive when I'm properly motivated. It would actually be a nice touch if you would bite your lip just like your daughter. Tell me the truth, Emma. How long has it been since you last... negotiated with a man? It won't be the first time you've starred in a sexy video, right?"

Allan, even as hard as he was laughing, was able to easily block and avoid her wild swing attempting to slap his face. She was far too angry to keep silent, even if it was the smart thing to do.

"You classless bastard."

x-x-x-x-x

Cleveland Emery could only look at the email staring at him from his in-box in disgust. Gold was never to contact him directly. That was made fairly clear. And not following his orders to the letter wasn't all that bright. Not that Gold was the sharpest knife in the drawer anyway.

The Deputy Director of the agency had quite the reputation. Not only was his violent temper fairly famous, it was widely known that he handled all of the things that the agency was into that could never become public knowledge. Widely known perhaps, but never openly admitted. It was always hard to separate fact from urban legend, but some of the stories were simply bone chilling, even for the seasoned spies of the agency. Whatever the truth, one thing was for sure. This wasn't a guy to piss off.

But Cleveland had to admit, the video was fairly entertaining, enough to inspire him to save it. That ex-Agent Walker was an amazingly beautiful woman, no denying that. At one time he knew her well. She was Franklin Graham's personal enforcer. Cleveland had personally given her several assignments that he would deny under oath ever happened. So seeing her on the other side was quite satisfying. Better yet was the fact that she had clearly surrendered. That meant Bartowski would be soon fully on board if it hadn't already happened.

Some men might be a little guilty using a man's wife like that... not Cleveland. He had long ago decided that personal feelings like guilt were a luxury he couldn't afford. The intersect was far too important to the work they were doing. The needs of the many required sacrifices from the few.

Cleveland played the video again. She really was beautiful. As long as it was required, might as well enjoy it.

Right?

x-x-x-x-x

Chuck, Sarah, Ellie, and Morgan were in what used to be the main room in Castle going over the final details of the plan. "You know what to do," Chuck said confidently. "This has to be precise or it won't work."

Morgan was having far too much fun with this for Sarah's taste. She might have been willing to put up with some nonsense from Chuck… a little anyway. But lives were on the line, including the people she loved most in the world. So if he noticed her glare, he was able to ignore it. "Yes, sir," he said sporting his classic Morgan grin. "Don't worry about me. This isn't my first rodeo."

"How is the prisoner?" Sarah asked, purposely trying to change the subject. She was working on trusting the team like Chuck asked. But that didn't mean she had to listen to Morgan being flippant and not respect the mission.

"He'll live," Ellie said dismissively. "This guy is a CIA Agent? I thought they were supposed to be tough. He's sort of a crybaby."

Chuck turned to his sister. "Are you ready for phase three?" he asked.

"All set," she replied. "All I need is for you to do your part." She turned to Morgan and grabbed his hand. "Let's give these honeymooners some privacy to say goodbye."

As soon as they left, Sarah grabbed both of Chuck's hands. "So tell me something," she said in mock seriousness. "How do I usually punish you? We've never really talked about it. I mean withholding sex is out. That would punish me more than you, hardly seems fair. Sleeping on the couch like we did two nights ago also hardly seems like punishment. I must have had some favorite way."

Chuck pretended to give the question some thought for a moment. "Silent treatment," he finally said. "Trust me, there is nothing colder than a Sarah Walker cold shoulder."

"I think there might be one thing colder," Sarah said as she leaned in to quickly kiss him. "And that would be a Sarah Bartowski cold shoulder. So tell me, did you really jump off the top of this building wrapped in only a banner? Tell me, Chuck. What could you possibly have been thinking?"

Chuck smiled. "So, you remember that night?" he asked. "That's good. It was almost four years ago. In my defense, it was Roan's idea."

"I remember standing there watching in horror as you flew through the air," Sarah said. "I couldn't believe it was happening. That reckless, totally foolish action without a doubt saved my life that night… and I still wanted to strangle you."

"I have a confession," Chuck said with the twinkle in his eyes very plain. "It was before Intersect 2.0 so I was pretty proud of myself for doing that, maybe a little too proud. That was the night that Roan called me out on being in love with you. He said that the first rule of being a good spy was to never fall in love. I told him that meant that I wasn't much of a spy. He told me to ask myself if you were worth dying for. I guess you know what my answer was. That was the same night I tried the Montgomery. I was thinking maybe that saving your life…"

"I know exactly what you were thinking," Sarah interrupted. "And if Bryce hadn't showed up when he did, you undoubtedly would have been right. In retrospect it's probably a good thing it didn't happen. We weren't ready. Well, I wasn't ready anyway. Chuck, I was an idiot. But I'm ready now."

She clearly wasn't really teasing. In fact it was now clear how far the once mighty Agent Walker had fallen. She was preparing for a life or death mission... and she was actually standing there necking with him. And the even more amazing truth was that she didn't feel guilty about it in the least. He was the one who actually finally broke the embrace.

Chuck was plainly having fun calling her on it. "We're coming very, very close to breaking one of your main rules," he said with a grin. "Don't you remember? No sex during a mission?"

Sarah sighed as she considered the prospect. He was probably right… for now. "Fine," she said reluctantly. "For the record, that sounds more like a guideline than a rule."

"Thank you for clarifying that," Chuck teased her. "That information would have come in a lot handier a year ago. You don't remember the Handburg mission, the longest two weeks of my life?"

Sarah needed to change the subject. "Let's be clear on one thing. If you do anything foolish and reckless like jumping off a building tonight, we're going to find out just how cold that Sarah Bartowski cold shoulder can be." It was an empty threat and they both knew it.

Chuck's eyes didn't lose any of their sparkle in the face of her warning. "I seriously doubt that," he teased. "Here's the deal. You can't stay mad at me for very long. We both know it."

That got them both laughing. "Getting a little cocky, are we?" Sarah asked as soon as she could stop laughing. But quickly the tension of the moment returned. "I guess not," she finally admitted with a sigh. "Not with those big brown eyes. It's so not fair. But if I can't threaten you, maybe I can guilt you. Chuck, please don't do anything to make me worry about you more than I already am."

"You do realize that you're not the only one here who can worry," Chuck protested. "Your assignment is no walk in the park. You've already had more than one run-in with her. She can be sorta hard to be around sometimes."

"So tell me something," Sarah said with a smile starting to tug at the corners of her mouth. "How do I usually punish Morgan? I can maybe forgive spilling grape soda in the jet. But did he really mess up our possible first time by stealing the condom out of your wallet? I let him live after that?"

That got a huge grin. "You're starting to remember more and more things," he said. "That's good. What else do you remember about that day?"

Sarah returned his grin. "I remember a lot of things," she said. "I remember how turned on I was there in bed next to you wearing only that t-shirt and panties. I remember lying there watching you sleep, thinking that I was going to have to hit you with a stick to get you to ever make a move. I seriously doubt that this will ever come up again, but for future reference when you're in bed with a girl, you offer to sleep on the floor, and she tells you that you don't have to, guess what she is really telling you? Oh my God, Chuck, you were so clueless. But you were also so cute telling me to stay, over and over. Sort of like you would tell a pet collie."

That got Chuck laughing again. "I thought I was dreaming," he said. "I was sure that I'd come back and you'd have come to your senses and be gone. I never expected that I would be the one to stiff you. Um... nothing off color intended. Trust me, Morgan was suitably scolded. He avoided you for weeks."

"I also remember how big of a dump the place was," Sarah said, still laughing. "Maybe it was fate that our first time didn't happen in such a dump. I've become accustomed to a certain life style. Now that you're rich, I expect you to seduce me in much higher class places. I trust that the hotel in Paris was a lot nicer."

"Higher class," Chuck repeated in her teasing tone. "I'll work on it. For the record, you're the one usually doing the seducing, you're just as rich as I am, and you picked out that dump in Barstow."

Sarah stepped over to the control panel and pushed a button. The large monitor suddenly came to life. "I wouldn't feel right watching you go on a dangerous mission without you seeing something," she said. "Old Sarah could never say this to you. But you deserve to know what she was thinking." Sarah stopped talking... and let Agent Walker on the monitor, dressed in her old Orange Orange uniform, take over.

_Day 564. Things are calm, for once. No missions, nothing… nothing really to report._

_Except I still find myself sitting here… talking to myself._

_Because… because I love him._

_I love Chuck Bartowski and I don't know what to do about it._

As soon as the screen went dark, Sarah Bartowski quickly made a swipe at the tears running down her cheek and grabbed her husband's hand pulling him into her. Both were still blinking away tears as they held each other but Sarah's came through a smile.

"Maybe someday I'll be able to watch that without bawling," she said. "It may have taken a lot longer than it should have, but the good news is that I've finally figured out what to do about it. Come back to me safely and I'll show you."

Chuck's eyes twinkled noticeably as he fought to suppress the laugh. "Let me guess. Is sex involved?" he asked gently in a mocking tone.

Sarah was trained to manage her emotions. So she was able to keep a straight face. "Of course sex is involved," she said. "We still have plenty of first time memories to make. Any complaints?"

"No, ma'am," Chuck quickly replied. "I may not have a mission log to show you, but Chuck Bartowski loved you just as much back then. He still does."

"I know," Sarah said softly.

"Stay safe."

x-x-x-x-x


	15. Team Bartowski

_I decided to post the rest of this story. I'm not expecting reviews._

_We don't own Chuck. Actually, we don't own much of anything. _

**Team Bartowski**

x-x-x-x-x

Chuck didn't say anything. But the sadness in his eyes was very plain to Alan as he stood in that conference room watching that graphic video of his wife's surrender. It almost made up for the humiliating defeat yesterday… but not quite.

Alan was actually having a very good day in general. So he made no effort to keep the gloating smile off his face as he watched Bartowski witnessing his wife's 'sacrifice.' As they stood in the conference room, he closely examined the agents from Chicago that had delivered him, a man and a woman. He had never seen either before. But that probably wasn't that unusual. After all they were stationed two thousand miles away. "Thank you," he said to the man. "Your assignment is complete. You can return to Chicago."

The woman made no effort to hide her disgust at his assumption that the man would be in charge. "Are you Eric Gold?" she asked sarcastically.

"No," Alan admitted. "Eric is otherwise engaged."

"Our orders are to deliver Mr. Bartowski to Agent Gold," the woman growled. "Not to his clueless, sexist assistant."

Alan ignored the not so subtle shot. "He'll be a while," he said in a last effort to get rid of them.

No sale. "That's fine," she replied. Her tone left little to argue with. "Until then he doesn't leave our sight. We'll wait."

Alan decided to not allow her snarky attitude to bother him. After all, he had just won a huge victory. He was in a very, very good mood. So he turned to where Bartowski was standing listlessly. "Your wife is very beautiful," he said in a faux attempt to sound friendly. "You must be very proud. I wonder what she's doing right now." Alan's voice then became much more sinister. "It didn't have to be this way, you know? This is a dangerous business. You should really be careful about the enemies you make. The only thing that your silly resistance accomplished is that now I'm enjoying this. Let's be crystal clear. Until we have a working intersect, Agent Walker will regularly be subject to similar assignments. It might be in your best interest to make sure that happens before she learns to enjoy them, maybe even to look forward to them."

It was hard to imagine the speed that being the Intersect gave Chuck. It was almost super human. He had Alan in a submission hold arm bar before he could even move. He made no effort to keep the disgust out of his voice as he watched Alan writhe in pain. "Fine," he snapped. "We have a deal. So let's get this over with. But you should also be careful of the enemies that you make. After this is over, you and I now have a date. Disrespect my wife once more and I'm not going to wait. Our agreement was that Emma and Molly would be released. I'm not doing anything until I talk to them and make sure they're okay. As soon as they're released show me to my quarters and I'll get started."

x-x-x-x-x

The guards who escorted Chuck into the cell were making no effort to be quiet. It would have been hard to stay sleeping with so much noise so it was no surprise that Molly woke up.

As soon as she saw who it was she sprung off the bed and threw her arms around his waist. "I knew you'd come," she said, her voice equal parts of laughing and crying. She turned to her mom with a gloating look in her eyes. "I told you he'd come." But then she lifted her face back to Chuck. "What took you so long?"

Chuck kneeled down to look Molly in the eye. "Sorry," he said as he grinned at her genuinely annoyed scolding. "I got here as fast as I could. You're being very brave. I'm very proud of you. Don't worry, this is almost over."

"Are we still going to Disney World?" Molly asked.

"Absolutely," Chuck said. "We had a deal. You promised me you'd go, right?"

Emma wasn't nearly as giddy. Alan's threat was still ringing in her ears. But she also was quick to embrace him. "They showed you that horrible video," she whispered in Chuck's ear. "Didn't they?"

Emma clearly misinterpreted his slumping shoulders and the tears that were forming in his eyes. So she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "I know that it looks bad," she said almost frantically. "But sweetie, please give her a chance to explain before you make any judgments. Please. Maybe, I don't know, maybe it's not as bad as it looks. I know that she loves you. You're so close to having it all. Please don't let this destroy you."

Chuck squeezed her back every bit as hard. "I'm sorry, mom," he whispered. "I never thought that even these bastards would stoop so low as to show that video to you. It was fake, all part of the plan. That was actually Sarah and I. Don't worry, Sarah was fully clothed. We weren't really doing anything. It was just a diversion, designed to let them think that they're winning a little and get their mind off how we're going to attack them."

Chuck pulled back a little to let her see him smile a little. "I know that you're worried about the future and if Sarah and I are going to end up together," he said. "Mom, you don't have to be. As it turned out, Sarah losing her memories was the best thing that could have possibly happened. It was like going to really intense counseling for a month. It forced us to be honest with each other, stop hiding our fears, and made us both realize that we were uptight for really silly reasons. We have it all. Our marriage is perfect. We both understand that we belong together. The truth is we're much closer now than we ever were."

Emma held her son-in-law close as she allowed the relief to wash over her for a long moment. It was the best news she had ever heard, on both fronts. "That's so great," was all she could finally get out. "I was so worried for you."

Chuck didn't say anything for a long time and just allowed then to enjoy the moment. "You helped a lot," he finally said. "Thank you for going to bat for me."

"I really didn't do anything," Emma protested. "I just pointed out the obvious. I've never seen her like that. She's totally head over heels, almost like a different person. She didn't even make any attempt to deny it. She would have eventually figured things out."

As great as this feeling was, Emma knew they were still in trouble. So now maybe she could concentrate on her other problems. "I don't know how to tell you this," she finally sighed. "But that one creep told me that he expects me to help him make a return video to taunt Sarah. He started to unbutton my blouse."

Emma could feel Chuck noticeably shake with anger. Fortunately Alan was smart enough to not be there or the plan would have needed some serious revision. "Don't worry," he was finally able to whisper. "I'm very sorry you had to go through that. It's not going to happen. I promise. Here is what is going to happen."

Emma stopped him with an anxious look towards the guards who were still standing there, clearly within earshot.

Chuck smiled as he recognized her concern. "Don't worry, mom," he said. "They are actually with me, also part of the plan."

Chuck motioned them over with a waive of his hand. "Emma," he said. "I'd like you to meet the bravest man I've ever known, Sarah's and my partner for the past five years, Colonel John Casey and our good friend Gertrude Verbanski. They are helping us."

Emma really didn't know what to think. This was still clearly a dangerous situation. Of course it was a tremendous relief to see three friendly faces. But there were still only three, against the dozens of adversaries surrounding them. Yet they all looked so confident. So she tentatively stuck out her hand. "Colonel Casey, Miss Verbanski," she said. "It's nice to meet you."

Casey smiled as he recognized her apprehension. "Call me Casey," he said as he shook her hand. "Everybody does. Don't worry. Things might look grim but everything is under control."

Chuck picked up Molly who was still clinging to his leg. "And this very special young lady is Molly." He touched his forehead to hers affectionately. "Since you're now part of the team, I have a very important assignment for you. When you see Sarah in a few minutes, give her this message for me."

x-x-x-x-x

Sarah was making no effort to hide her nervousness. Agent Walker always hated situations where she didn't have control. Losing her memories hadn't changed that one iota. And when Sarah was nervous, the best course of action was to stay out of her way. Everybody knew that.

So Morgan buried himself into his computer monitor as Sarah paced the floor. Ellie decided that maybe it was time to check on her patient.

But finally the message that they were waiting for came through. "Chuck is in position," Morgan reported.

Sarah was in no mood to be gentle. "What is the situation?" she snapped.

Morgan didn't respond. He just grabbed the paper off the printer and allowed Sarah to read Chuck's decoded message for herself.

_Situation about as anticipated._

_Mom and Molly are fine, understandably a little anxious for this to be over and to see everyone._

_Proceed with next phase as planned. Make Alan suffer. Ask Mom to explain._

_Someone tell Sarah to try and relax a little._

For the first time since Chuck left, she was able to take a deep breath. She could feel the involuntary smile tugging at the corners of her mouth at Chuck's clear teasing. She honestly expected even more, an 'I love you' maybe. And even though it wouldn't be appropriate in the middle of a mission, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't disappointed at some level. But they still had a job to do. "Are you ready?" she asked Morgan.

"Yes, ma'am," Morgan replied with a grin. "Contact me as soon as you're ready to transmit."

Sarah took a deep breath. Finally, she was going to be able to do something about these bastards. "Okay," she said as she bumped the fist that Morgan was holding out to her affectionately.

"I guess that it's show time."

x-x-x-x-x

Alan insisted that he take Emma and Molly to their new location by himself. After all, what was the risk? Anybody who could do anything to them was accounted for. Emma was cuffed in the back seat… and what could she do against an armed agent anyway? Besides, he wanted her alone. His taunting wouldn't be nearly as much fun with another agent in the car. He was going to make her pay full price for that painful and humiliating arm bar.

Alan was really looking forward to this on multiple levels. Of course Emma was a little older than his usual fantasy girl. But she was clearly once quite the babe. He really wasn't kidding when he said that it was obvious where Walker got her good looks.

It only took a few minutes to drive to the house they had acquired to hold the prisoners until they were convinced that Bartowski was genuinely cooperating. When Alan knocked on the door, it was opened by a woman that he had never seen before.

At least the woman appeared friendly. "Alan," she said as she stuck out her hand. "Please come in. We've been expecting you. I see that you have the prisoners."

Alan ignored her extended hand. He was understandably confused. "Have we met?" he asked.

"Well, no," she admitted. "My name is Agent Frost. Agent Gold thought it would be best if I took over here at the house."

As she led him into the house, it was immediately clear that something was amiss. The four agents that had been assigned to accompany Gold to the hotel and then return here were sitting on the floor in the living room gagged with their hands and feet securely bound. Alan tried to quickly reach for his gun. However Mary was waiting for him. She had her own gun pressed into Alan's head, right between his eyes before he got halfway there.

"Do us both a favor," Mary said so that only Alan could hear as she racked a round into the gun. "Don't make me shoot you in front of the little girl. You've put her through enough already. She really doesn't need to see your brains splatter against the wall. Me on the other hand, I might enjoy it."

Fortunately, Chuck had told Emma what to generally expect. But then she saw the best sight of her life. Her Sarah popped out from around the corner.

As soon as she had relieved Alan of his weapon, she took the cuffs off Emma and applied them, not so gently, to Alan. The instant he was secured Sarah stepped up to Emma and hugged her. She took her free hand and pulled Molly into the embrace.

It was a long moment before anybody said anything. Finally Sarah pulled out of her mother's arms. "Mom," she said. "I'd like you to meet Chuck's mom. Mary, this is Emma. Mary is also a CIA Agent. As I understand it, she is also currently retired."

"Semi retired," Mary corrected with a grin as she extended her hand warmly. "Emma, it's nice to finally get to meet you."

While Mary and Emma were saying their hellos, Sarah kneeled down to talk to Molly. "I'm very proud of you," she said. "Chuck says that you have been so brave. Don't worry, it's all over."

Molly stepped close to Sarah. "It's not over yet," she said with a pout. "Chuck gave me an assignment."

Sarah couldn't keep the grin from her face, not that she was trying in any way. "Okay," she said. "What is your assignment?"

Molly kissed Sarah on the cheek. "He told me to tell you that he loves you very, very much."

Sarah was honestly surprised. But after thinking about it for half a second, why should she be surprised at all? That was her Chuck, seemingly able to read her mind, knowing from miles away exactly what she needed to hear and delivering it on cue, her guy at his amazing best. Now she felt a little guilty for being disappointed by his note in Castle. It took a moment for Sarah to blink away the happy tears. And not wanting to appear emotional in front of the moms she hugged Molly tight and hid her face in her shoulder. "He loves you very much too," she was finally able to whisper. "So do I. I'm sorry that I haven't been around much lately. That's going to change. I'd like to get to know my sister a little better… maybe be a bigger part of your life." Finally Sarah was able to gather her composure. "Thank you," she said with a smile as she released Molly from the embrace. "You handled your assignment very professionally."

If Sarah's goal was trying to hide her emotional reaction and avoid being unmercifully teased by the moms, well she failed miserably. Both Emma and Mary had ear to ear grins. It was Mary who first expressed what they both were thinking. "Aw," she said. "Who'd have thunk it? Bad Ass Agent Walker reduced to a lovesick schoolgirl. How sweet is that?"

Emma immediately picked up on the teasing tone… and joined the sport. "I've never seen her like this," she said. "Chuck must have actually tamed her. I wonder if she will admit it."

Sarah could feel the blush quickly climbing up her neck at their overt teasing. But any denial was pointless. And suddenly she didn't feel like denying anything anyway. The best way to stop their annoying fun at her expense was to throw it back at them. In fact, she felt like bragging him up a little. So she stood up and put her hands on her hips in faux annoyance. "Why shouldn't I admit it?" she asked sarcastically. "I've bagged the greatest, the nicest, sweetest guy in the world. Every single day I think that he is perfect and every single day I find out something else about him that makes me fall even harder. We're going to spend the rest of our lives together. I can't wait to see him as a father. I'm the luckiest girl on the planet. Can anybody think of a good reason why I shouldn't be acting like a lovesick schoolgirl?"

Sarah's totally unexpected counterattack worked perfectly. Now it was the moms who were blinking away happy tears. "Let's get this over with and get you two back together," Mary finally said. "I wouldn't mind seeing him as a father myself. It means I'd have another grandchild to bounce on my knee." She paused for a moment. "I believe we have a video to make."

At the mention of a video, Emma's attention was suddenly returned to Alan who was still standing there with his hands cuffed behind his back watching the scene unfold in confusion. Her open fisted, more slap than punch, came from her hip with all of the pent up frustration of the past twenty-four hours behind it and as much force as she could muster. Alan never saw it coming. And with his hands secured, he had no way to protect himself. So the force knocked him against the wall and had him seeing stars for a long moment. "You classless bastard," she growled as she shook her hand against the stinging from the slap.

"That was for calling me a MILF."

x-x-x-x-x

The suits were squeezed into the same conference room as just a couple of hours ago. Again, the room was abuzz with anticipation. The second 'all hands' conference in the same day? Something must be big. The lab jackets weren't here this time. But the room was still full. All of the agents were asked to attend, even the ones on duty, leaving only a small skeleton crew to guard the front gate. The buzz in the room was clear. The confidence could only mean one thing. This period of high alert was over. The anticipation was that they were about to be treated to a second video, hopefully this one showing a little more skin from the lovely Agent Walker.

Indeed, suddenly without an announcement the projector turned on. And on the screen was the aforementioned Sarah Walker.

"Hi," she said with a smile. "My name is Sarah Bartowski. But then again, you already knew that, right? I understand from my talk with my new friend Alan here that my earlier video was a big hit."

The camera panned to where Alan was sitting on the floor with the other men totally secured. He clearly wasn't having a good day. His lip was visibly bleeding, his face was clearly swollen, and his eyes didn't seem all that focused. "I can't say that I'm all that flattered," Sarah continued. "Needless to say, it wasn't what it seemed. Almost nothing is as is seems."

The scene shifted to a picture of Eric still secured to his chair. He clearly wasn't having any better of a day than Alan. His finger was in a splint and an IV was visible in his arm while he groaned in pain. Then the picture changed to the twenty second video that had caused all the excitement in the first place, except it kept going. When the camera pulled back, the mystery of why Sarah was biting her lip was plainly answered. She was trying to keep from laughing. She was fully clothed with just her shirt pulled down over her shoulders. As soon as she unfastened the fake cuffs, she discarded the extra bra around her neck, sat up, and started laughing. Chuck who had been rocking the bed and providing the grunts waived at the camera. Then they fell together into each other's arms on the bed, giggling so hard that neither could speak.

The picture changed back to a calm Sarah talking. "Alan tells me this video was so well received that you have a pool going to see what I'm going to be doing in the next one. Well, allow me to clear that up for you. Whoever had 'placing you all under arrest' just won."

Sarah paused for a moment to allow her words to sink in… and her grin to grow. "Don't make any sudden movements but take a quick glance at the back of the room," she said. "The people holding those automatic weapons currently aimed at you are my friends. Anyone who doesn't have their hands face down on the table in front of them in three seconds will learn the hard way how good of a shot they are."

Indeed, when the men looked towards the back, there were four people, one man and three women in position all holding automatic rifles. They had no choice but to quickly comply.

"Excellent," Sarah said from the screen. "Now two of the bridesmaids in my wedding are going to come to each of you and relieve you of your weapon. When they tap you on the shoulder you are to stand up slowly, put your hands behind your back, and allow them to secure you. Once they have you secured, they will tap you on the shoulder and you can sit back down. Trust me, any attempt at any resistance would be quite stupid. Neither is all that happy with your treatment of my mother and sister. They are both itching to show someone how they usually react when they are unhappy."

Sarah waited for a few moments so that the ladies could begin their tasks. She closed the 'show' with a smile.

"Have a nice day."

x-x-x-x-x

Chuck was in the lab with the fifteen lab jackets. He was showing them the same feed that the suits had been watching. Naturally he made absolutely no effort to keep the gloating smirk from his face.

One of the lab jackets finally found her voice. "You're incredibly naïve," she said in a dismissive tone. "You may have stopped us for today. But you don't understand the CIA. When they want something, they'll figure out a way to get it. All you've done is buy some time and piss them off."

Chuck peered in to look at her name tag. "Well, Jo," he said. Clearly not all of the women employed by the CIA were as beautiful as his Sarah. He resisted the strong temptation to ask her if she had ever heard of makeup. But what good would that do? Besides, it would take a whole boatload of makeup. "I actually agree with you. That's why I've deleted the Intersect plans."

That got a grin from Jo. "You really are naïve," she said. "Do you really think that something as important as the plans for the Intersect are stored in a single place? They are backed up in three different data centers. They are…"

"Oh you mean Bristol, Salt Lake City, and Atlanta?" Chuck finished her statement. "Yeah, I may be naïve. But why do you think I went through all of the trouble to come here? Those three locations can only be accessed from inside the network. Go ahead and try to access them. I think you'll find that the files are overwritten with binary zeroes in each of those locations along with all of the backups."

Jo didn't respond. But her mouth hanging open and the color leaving her face was probably response enough.

"Good luck rebuilding the cube from scratch without plans," Chuck laughed as he pushed past her and out the door.

"I'll see you in about fifty years."

x-x-x-x-x

Cleveland Emery was waiting in his office for a status update. It was well after midnight. It really wasn't that unusual for Cleveland to be in the office this late. He practically lived here. That was the problem with being married to your work. You didn't have any other place to go.

So when Diane Beckman opened the door and walked into the office, he was only a little surprised. It would have been professional courtesy to have knocked. But the general was well known for not being big on professional courtesy. She was also well known for being married to her work. That meant she also clearly didn't have any other place to go. "Diane," he said with as much smile as he could muster at this late hour. "What a pleasant surprise."

Beckman made no effort to return the smile. "When were you going to tell me about reinstating the Intersect Project?" she demanded. "You've diverted a very large amount of assets, people, and money… under what authority? We made an agreement."

Cleveland could tell that she was pissed. But there really wasn't anything she could do about it. He had carefully covered all the tracks that would lead to him. "Our agreement with Bartowski was non-binding," he said. "The funds were out of my discretionary budget, Diane. I had the full authority to use them. When was I going to tell you about it? When I had some results to show you." Cleveland was confident. Yes, she might be pissed. But they had already spent enough money on this project that abandoning it would be an embarrassing thing she would have to explain. And once she calmed down and thought it through, Beckman would want the benefits of a working Intersect as much as anybody.

"I see," Beckman said calmly. "And under what authority did you kidnap private citizens to coerce the Bartowski family to cooperate?"

Cleveland could instantly tell from the tone of her voice that this was getting serious. She knew more than he expected. For the first time he noticed the two uniformed soldiers standing at attention in the hallway. It was time to cover his ass. "I don't know what you're talking about, Diane," he said. "Perhaps some subordinate went farther…"

"Don't even try it," Beckman cut him off. She grabbed his phone sitting on the desk. Sarah's video was still open. "What do we have here?"

Cleveland suddenly realized that maybe he had foolishly uncovered some of those tracks. Saving that video had been a huge mistake. But maybe he could still bluff his way out of this. "You can't prove anything," he said. "Come on, Diane. We both know how these things work, plausible deniability and all. That video doesn't prove a thing."

Beckman nodded at his logic. "Probably not by itself," she admitted. "But as it turns out kidnapping is a capital offense. It seems that Sarah Bartowski has talked the perpetrator into testifying against you to keep his own ass out of the gas chamber. I really like our chances of a conviction." She turned to the soldiers. "Take him into custody."

Once they had Cleveland cuffed and was ready to lead him away, Beckman stopped and put her face directly into his. "A six year old little girl?" she asked sarcastically. "Really, Cleveland? I should have stopped you years ago. I knew the kind of things you were into. I'm ashamed that I looked the other way. Well…"

"Consider yourself stopped."

x-x-x-x-x

As soon as Chuck entered Castle, he went immediately to his sister and placed a gold chain around her neck with a flash drive attached. "Congratulations," he said. "You are now the sole possessor of Dad's invention. Be careful with it."

To say that Ellie was excited, well that didn't come close. "Oh my God," she said. "Isn't this dangerous? What if they figure it out and come take it from me?"

"It's encrypted," Chuck said. "And if they ever figure it out and demand the password from you, tell them my middle name. It will look like it worked, until they get a few years into the project and discover that the key parts are actually the specs for a riding lawn mower. It'll be the most expensive riding lawn mower in the history of the government. Don't tell Casey. He hates wasting the taxpayer's money."

That got Ellie laughing. "Do you have the other thing?"

"Yup," Chuck said as he handed her a bag. "Are you sure this will work?"

Ellie took the glasses out of the bag, connected them to her phone for a few moments, and handed them back to Chuck. "I'm sure," she said. "This is a one shot deal, so keep them away from Morgan… unless of course, you want your relationship with him to move to the next level."

That got Chuck laughing. "Eww," he said. "Why would you say something like that to me?"

Ellie waited until their laughing had died down. "You'd better go see her," she said. "She is absolutely wearing a path through the carpet."

"I've never seen anyone so lovesick."

x-x-x-x-x

As soon as Chuck walked into the room where Sarah was not so patiently waiting, they found themselves in each other's arms. Who was squeezing harder was up for debate. But whoever it was, not a lot of breathing was taking place.

"I told you," Chuck finally said, his tone clearly teasing. "My plans always work."

Sarah really wasn't in mood quite yet to be teased. "I'm sorry," she said as she held him tight. "I should have never doubted you."

"Don't be sorry," Chuck said, still clearly teasing. "Make it up to me instead. I thought that we agreed that some serious sex was involved. Are you all talk?"

So that finally got Sarah laughing a little. "Wow," she said. "I was thinking that you could wait until we got back to our suite in Vegas and called 'time in' on our second first honeymoon. But I forgot about the suite in the Grand Ambassador. That's probably closer."

"Or," Chuck said with the twinkle clear in his eyes. "We could do another video, this time for real."

Sarah noticed the twinkle… and decided to call him on it. "Okay," she said playfully. "Let's go. I have the handcuffs. Is Morgan going to be doing the filming again this time?"

Chuck had no choice but to admit defeat. "Okay," he sighed. "You got me. We'll go back to Vegas and dance."

Sarah's laughing was now fairly robust and totally genuine. "Let this be a lesson," she said. "Don't ask for things from me that you don't really want."

Naturally that got the red climbing up his neck in record time. "I have something for you," he said, more to change the subject than anything. "Ellie loaded your memories onto this pair of Intersect Glasses. She is confident that will reverse the effects of Quinn's flash cards. You can have your memories back."

Sarah just stared at the glasses Chuck was holding out to her for a long time. "Is something wrong?" he finally asked.

Sarah stood there for a long moment. "I don't want to take this the wrong way," she finally said cautiously. "You want your old wife back. I get that. I want to give her to you. And if it's what you want, I'll do it."

Chuck could see that she was emotional and was struggling with the words, so he just stood there patiently and allowed his wife the space to say what was on her mind."

"I woke up a month ago with a wedding ring on my finger," she said softly. "I knew that it must have been a mission. That's why what Quinn was telling me made sense at the time. Sarah Walker wasn't looking to fall in love. It was the last thing that she would ever do. Not only that, there was no way that anyone could honestly fall in love with her. She was a messed up, horrible person. She was a killing machine that the CIA created. All she lived for was the next mission. Who could love that? And this lovable nerd who wore his heart on his sleeve? He wasn't her type at all. It must have been an act for a mission."

Chuck smiled and nodded for her to continue.

"But this nerd was more cunning than I expected," Sarah continued. "He quickly proved that he knew things about me that no one else knew, personal things that I had buried deep down, things I would never have told anybody. Then the sneaky bastard moved in for the kill. He invited me to live with him for a while. He obviously knew what he was doing. Even though it was killing him, he kept me at arms length, went to great pains to not pressure me in any way. The more time I spent with him, the more I became convinced that it wasn't an act. This nerd was truly that amazing. He turned out to be the sweetest guy, he could always make me laugh, and he constantly set aside his own feelings and fears to look out for me. So as much as I tried to resist, and Chuck believe me I tried, it was hopeless. He saved me, pulled me out of my personal hell… twice. I quickly found that for the first time I actually liked myself when I was with him. He made me a better person. Before I knew what was happening I found myself helplessly head over heels in love with this amazing man, who I had just met a month ago, but also somehow happened to be my husband. It worked out perfectly. I'm the luckiest person in the world. It's like I won the love lottery."

Sarah paused to take a breath. "I know that you want your old wife back," she said. "The one who you fought so hard for. It's impossible to fault you for that. But Chuck, our lives are so perfect right now. I just don't want to risk anything to mess it up. Do you understand what I'm trying to say? Are you upset?"

Chuck took the glasses out of her hand. "I have my wife back," he said. "And she's better than ever. And I love her even more. I know that you don't get this, but you saved me every bit as much. I was drifting though life working in a Buy More. Suddenly I was going on missions, defusing bombs, jumping off buildings. The only reason I survived was because I was always standing next to this blonde kick ass ninja who was so beautiful that she should be in movies but could also throw a knife into a flea's ass from fifty feet. She put up with years of crap from me without a single complaint. She is the best wife anyone could hope for, almost too good to be true. She makes me want to be a better person and a better husband. So you're right. Our lives are perfect. I'll give them back to Ellie to hold on to. And if we ever change our minds for some reason, we can always get them back."

At first Sarah feared that this was one of those things that Chuck would do, set aside his own wishes for her. So she looked carefully into his eyes. She was very thankful that she could see no sign of that. In fact, the twinkle in his eyes spoke of nothing but pure happiness. "Thank you," she sighed in genuine relief. "I love you."

"You have nothing to thank me for," Chuck said with the beginnings of a grin. "I love you too. Now let's say goodbye to everyone and get back to Vegas. It's about time that the ridiculously wealthy Chuck Bartowski showed his amazing wife a good time on the dance floor… among other places."

"We have to do one thing first," Sarah said.

"One thing?"

"Yeah," Sarah said with a grin.

"Just shut up and kiss me."

x-x-x-x-x

_A/N: BrickRoad and I talked a lot early on about the ending. I know from the discussions at before the finale aired that a substantial part of the fandom would be disappointed with any result other than Sarah getting her full memories back. I understand the argument, that five years of growth would be lost. But I think that this was the best of both worlds. The new Sarah might not be able to remember some details of those years. But she had grown much farther than old Sarah ever had and was now committed to not allow her past to affect her husband who she honestly adored. And she got to make the most romantic statement possible to Chuck. She didn't need memories to know that she was head over heels in love, thought that her life was simply perfect with him, didn't need any further proof that they belonged together, and was looking forward to making their own memories for the next sixty years._

_As the story winds down, I'd love to hear what you thought. Silence is the worst thing for an author. So if you enjoyed this, or even if you didn't, there are tons of ways to give your feedback. I'm __BillAtWork__ on LiveJournal, __Billyatwork__ on Twitter (apparently there was already another Bill there who also works), and __BillAtWork__ on . Or if you received this via email, you can just reply. BrickRoad is a little harder to reach. But if you would like to contact her, she is __BrickRoad16__ at . Or you can just send your comments to me and I'll make sure she gets them._

x-x-x-x-x


	16. The Final Mission

_I decided to post the rest of this story. I'm not expecting reviews._

_We don't own Chuck. Actually, we don't own much of anything. _

**The Final Mission**

x-x-x-x-x

Chuck stumbled into the hotel room, headed directly to the bed, and basically collapsed onto it in a heap. It was a long moment before he could do anything except lay there and gasp for breath. "Thank you for rescuing me," he was finally able to get out. "It was pure hell out there."

"You're welcome," Sarah said as she looked at her husband in genuine concern. He was positively drenched in sweat. "Are you sure that you're all right?" she finally asked. "You really don't look so good. One of these days our final mission is actually going to have to be our final mission before you really get hurt."

"That's the worst torture I've ever heard of," he replied between panting breaths. "She put all of those old Fulcrum people to shame. Why didn't you warn me?"

Sarah was finally convinced that he was okay. "I did warn you," she said with a laugh. "Chuck, what were you thinking? Trying to keep up with an eleven year old all day in the Magic Kingdom? That's a suicide mission."

Chuck finally was able to crack a smile. "Where does she get all that energy?" he asked between pants. "I've never been more exhausted in my life. For the first four years we came here Molly was all into the princesses. All I had to do was stand in line with her while she waited to talk to Ariel and Belle. Now all of a sudden she's into the thrill rides. She must have dragged me on Space Mountain some twenty times. She is actually very fast. I think that she might become a track star in a few years."

"Don't exaggerate," Sarah said, openly making fun of him. "It was only twelve times. I honestly never thought I'd see you less than enthusiastic about riding Space Mountain. You may want to be careful. Jeff and Lester may come back from all the groupies in Germany and take away your nerd badge."

"Right…" Chuck said sarcastically, intentionally drawing out the word. "Like Jeff and Lester would ever leave groupies. If they did, I'd take away their nerd badge."

That got Sarah laughing. "Good point," she said.

Chuck finally was able to lift his head enough to look around. "Where is Kate?"

Sarah laughed at him even harder. "Some responsible father you turned out to be," she teased. "You're just now noticing that your four year old daughter is missing? It's a good thing that Chuck Junior stayed with Morgan and Alex. Katie is with Grandma Emma and Molly down at the pool."

"Next year Chuck Junior comes with us right?" Chuck asked. "I really miss the little guy."

"Yes," Sarah sighed. "That was our deal. He'll be three. Besides, who knows what new 'skills' Morgan is teaching him as we speak? I really miss him too. I'm going to call him in a few minutes."

"Kate really loves the pool, doesn't she? Maybe we should think about getting one put in."

"Pools are a lot of work," Sarah said thoughtfully. "It would have been different if we had stayed in L.A. In Chicago you don't get to use them for very many months of the year. Besides with the jet, we're always close to someplace for Katie to go swimming. So let's think about it. But you're right. As it turns out, we've raised something of a fish. I'm going out there to join them in a few."

"You're not wearing that?" Chuck asked in faux alarm once he realized that Sarah had changed into her bikini. Normally having two kids would have taken a major toll on the body of a woman in her mid-thirties. But Sarah Bartowski was honestly more beautiful today than she had ever been before the kids. Part of it was she still worked out every day like a body builder. And okay, maybe part of it was the bigger chest. But it was far more her aura. Now days she almost always had a relaxed smile on her face that simply shouted confident beauty. She had always turned heads. But now it was bordering on ridiculous. "I'm not sure that you're allowed to wear that sexy of a bikini inside the borders of Disney World," Chuck explained. "I think it's in the official hotel rules. After all, probably lots of single dads walking around the pool. We wouldn't want any unfortunate incidents in front of the children. Would we?"

"I could take it off," Sarah teased. "But then again, I'm almost positive that would be against the Disney rules. Thank you for your concern. It was sweet. Why do you really think that I do all of those sit ups?"

"I'm actually too tired to put up a valid protest," Chuck sighed as he turned again so that the air conditioner would blow directly on his face. "So go ahead and be as sexy as you want. I can't stop you. I'm taking a nap. Don't forget our deal."

That got Sarah laughing openly at the faux deal she had made with him several years ago at Beckman's retirement party with all of the agents milling around looking for a conquest. She had never been in a room with so much testosterone on disgusting display. "Don't worry," she said. "How could I forget? You remind me every couple of days. If anybody even looks like he is about to hit on me, I'll kick him directly in the side of his head and then come and tell you all about it. Happy?"

"Happy?" Chuck groaned. "How can I be happy? Can't you see that I'm dying here?"

Sarah's laugh held very little sense of sympathy. "Don't forget," she said. "Katie wants to show you how she can jump into the pool all by herself."

"I'd better get out there," Chuck said with clearly more energy than he had expressed just a moment ago. "Where is my suit?"

"Relax," Sarah said with a smile as she saw the father in Chuck come quickly to the surface. Naturally she was only teasing about him being a bad father earlier. In fact, he was nothing short of amazing. She had always looked forward to seeing Chuck as a dad. But she wasn't honestly thinking he'd be this great. He was totally devoted. Both Katie and Chuck Junior worshiped him. "Take your nap. You've earned it. Katie can practice with Grandma until you're ready."

Chuck sighed in relief and enjoyed the air conditioning blowing directly on his face for a long moment. "You're not fooling me," he said. "You just want to flaunt that sexy bikini for a while without me messing up your style. I'm on to you missy."

That predictably got Sarah laughing again. But then again, for the past five years she had spent most of her days laughing. The jealousy act was actually an inside joke between them, a leftover from the spy days. Well, Chuck's jealousy was an act anyway. Sarah could still occasionally find a way to let some young woman know in no uncertain terms that she didn't appreciate the way she was looking at her husband's ass. For some reason it was happening more and more often lately. And actually, Sarah knew the reason. Chuck was still cute as ever. And being a billionaire thanks to some good investing didn't hurt either.

So far Sarah had resisted the temptation to kick any of the gold digger wannabes in the head. But it had honestly come close more than once. Fortunately, he always made a point of making sure that she knew that she was the only woman he would ever look at. "Maybe," she said. "But don't worry. I'm pretty sure that having a four year old daughter holding your hand messes up your style just as much."

Chuck had no choice but to agree. "Thank you, Katie," he sighed in faux relief. "Always looking out for daddy."

That got Sarah laughing even harder. "Remember," she said. "We're all meeting for dinner in a little while, so it's going to have to be a quick nap. And you promised Molly that you would take her back tonight to watch the fireworks over Cinderella's Castle. I think that Clara and Katie should stay here for a couple of years. The fireworks would scare them. And you promised the gang EPCOT tomorrow. Katie is constantly telling anyone who will pretend to listen that daddy is going to take her for a ride in the big shinny ball."

Chuck openly groaned. "This is a nightmare," he said. "EPCOT is twice as big as the Magic Kingdom. And now I suppose you're going to expect me to seduce you tonight when I get back."

"Well, it is your turn," Sarah said with a laugh. "A third 'maybe baby' isn't going to just fall from the sky, right? A deal is a deal. Kate is sleeping with Molly and Grandma again so the stealth moves won't be necessary. Just between us, it might help prime the seduction pump a little if you didn't make it sound like such a chore. I think that you might be taking me for granted a little. Maybe you could even take a shower first. I mean, no offense or anything, but right now you're… well, you're kinda gross."

That actually got a twinkle. "Like that's really going to stop you," he teased. "Who are we trying to kid? I'm thinking that the seduction pump is already plenty primed."

"Good point," Sarah said as she plopped down on the bed and playfully straddled her husband, leaning forward to pin his arms over his head… and conspicuously rub her scantily covered chest against his along the way. "Who really cares if I get all sweaty? I'm about to jump into the pool anyway. Understand something. Whatever pre-nap quickie I can coax out of you here now does not in any way relieve you of any of your responsibilities tonight. I expect some fireworks of an entirely different nature. Disney probably isn't the place for James Bond. Maybe you could break out a Full Bartowski Treatment. It has been a few days."

"Yes, ma'am," Chuck sighed. "Sarah, I'm trying hard to not ever take you for granted. If you think that, then…"

Sarah stopped him with a finger to his lips and a huge grin that clearly told him that she was just teasing. She felt a little bad teasing him about it. She knew that he was pretty sensitive to the idea of ever appearing anything but grateful to have her… needlessly sensitive. The honest truth was that her life was simply perfect. There was no other way to describe it.

Almost every memory had eventually returned. And even the bad memories now didn't seem quite so bad. The only major gap that remained was their wedding, their first wedding that is. She had watched the tape a gazillion times but still couldn't remember it. But she did have some wedding moments to fondly recall. Chuck insisted that they make that memory just for her, so they had reaffirmed their vows a few years ago.

Naturally that included a third first wedding night and honeymoon in Paris. Chuck pulled some strings, the ones that were wrapped around a pile of cash, and they got the very same room as the first time. They even rode the same train and again tried very hard to rock it off the tracks. After all, what good was being filthy rich if you couldn't enjoy yourselves? Fortunately there were no terrorists on the train this time… at least none they were aware of.

And her amazing husband… even after being married for over six years, two kids, and another being actively worked on, he could still make her laugh helplessly on demand anytime he wanted. And he was constantly romancing her, in his own incredibly sweet, totally nerdy way. He was still making it a point to be sure that he always appeared totally appreciative of what they had. It was indescribably sweet. And that didn't come close to how appreciative she was of what they had. She could honestly say that she was looking forward to whatever moves he would come up with tonight every bit as much as their first time in Paris, or even their second first time back at the old apartment in Burbank.

Perhaps they were currently in Disney World, a place where fairy tales are commonplace. But her love story with Chuck was a real life fairy tale that was more magical than all of the storybook ones combined. And the funny thing was that it got better every single day. If Sarah wasn't almost constantly laughing, she could get a little teary eyed just thinking about how incredibly lucky she was. But she had learned long ago to stop trying to figure it out, and just enjoy the ride. "Chuck," she said in mostly faux annoyance.

"Shut up and kiss me."

The End

x-x-x-x-x

_A/N: This is a little bittersweet for me. On the one hand, I'm very proud of the story. And although we argue a lot, BrickRoad and I just seem to click together. I'm a much better writer because of her._

_We got tons of amazing support. I was very appreciative of that._

_But there are also elements of the fandom that I certainly won't miss. One of the worst things about the internet is that the anonymous nature emboldens some to say things that they would never have the courage to say in person. I'm honestly saddened by that more than angry. There are ways to disagree and still be civil. I've always tried to be open to listening to different points of view. I've actually changed storylines based upon reader comments. Critical reviews are one thing. Personal attacks are different._

_Anybody who was hanging around in the weeks prior to the finale knew that some variant of this story was what I was expecting from the finale. I fully expected to see Sarah falling in love again. To say that I was disappointed in what we got is far, far short of reality. I'm not sure how anybody could be happy with the main storyline of the series being reset and not resolved. We should have ended with Chuck and Sarah together, happy, and planning their future. Anything short of that was, in my opinion, a cheat. The flash forward would have been a nice touch._

_Reading fan fiction is no substitute for watching the show. I get that. But hopefully this helps a little._

_Chuck and Sarah Bartowski are fictional characters. They only truly exist in the mind of their creator, Chris Fedak. He says they are together someplace and happy. And since he is the only one who would know, we don't have much choice but to believe him._

_People ask me if this is my last story. Probably. It is far more work than I think people realize. But there are still plenty of opportunities for interesting stories. Chuck and Sarah have pasts with enemies, there are still plenty of men to lust after Sarah (just kidding), Chuck is still the only intersect in the world. There are still plenty of chances for them to find trouble. I'm frankly a little surprised that there is still this much interest. The show has been off the air for almost exactly a year now._

_So, we'll see._

x-x-x-x-x


End file.
